#it was enough to serve my needs on 1 site

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[dduane]

PETER MORWOOD oh my godddddd i was trying to remember who the fuck it was with the good foccacia recipe and i was like. "he is friends with diane duane on tumblr and is also an author. i scrolled for ages looking and then god sick of it, opened the ask, and it popped right in. anyway thought it'd make you laugh to know that i remember peter morwood primarily through his foccacia recipe and being your tumblr buddy than for his life's works

(chortle) I suspect he won't think that's a hanging offense. (And tbh, most of his stuff isn't in print in North America at the moment. But we're working on that.)

Meanwhile, since Himself is presently asleep upstairs after a late night, here's the link to the recipe we've been using (it's on the Washington Post's recipe site). They in turn adapted theirs from one of the focaccia recipes here at the Bread In 5 website, which comes from the people who wrote Artisan Pizza and Flatbread in Five Minutes a Day.

(In case it's paywalled, I'll cut-and-paste it under the cut...)

Ingredients

4 cups (500 grams) unbleached all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting

1 1/2 cups plus 2 tablespoons (390 milliliters) lukewarm water

6 tablespoons extra-virgin olive oil, divided

1 tablespoon (11 grams) granulated sugar

1 1/2 teaspoons (4 to 5 grams) dried instant yeast (not rapid rise)

1 1/8 teaspoons (16 grams) fine salt

2 teaspoons finely chopped fresh rosemary (from 2 to 4 sprigs), divided

Coarse or flaky salt, for sprinkling

In a large (5- to 6-quart) bowl, use a wooden spoon to stir together the flour, water, 2 tablespoons of the oil, the sugar, yeast and fine salt until a rough dough forms. Transfer to a container with a lid, partially cover and let rest for about 2 hours on the counter. You can use the dough right away, or cover and refrigerate until needed; see Make ahead. (If you plan on refrigerating and have a lidded container large enough for mixing, you can assemble the dough in there and refrigerate it after the 2-hour rise on the counter. The dough is much easier to handle after being thoroughly chilled.)

Place a baking stone on the middle oven rack and preheat to 425 degrees. Pour 2 tablespoons of oil into a 9-inch cake pan and evenly coat the bottom of the pan.

Dust the surface of the refrigerated dough lightly with flour, then pull half of it off (about 1-pound/454-gram portion; the dusting makes this task easier, as the dough is sticky). Dust the half you are using with more flour and quickly shape it into a ball by stretching the surface of the dough around to the bottom on all four sides, rotating the ball a quarter-turn as you go.

Use your hands to flatten it into a 1/2-inch-thick round 6 to 7 inches in diameter. Place the dough top side down in the cake pan, moving it around a bit to coat with the oil. It will not fill to the edges of the pan. Turn the dough over, cover the pan with plastic wrap or a plate, and let the dough rest for 10 to 15 minutes.

Use your hands to gently push the dough to the edges of the cake pan. Sprinkle with half of the the rosemary and coarse or flaky salt, as needed.

Re-cover with plastic wrap or plate, and let the dough to rest and rise for 20 minutes.

Repeat with the second ball of dough, or store it to bake later.

Transfer the cake pan to the heated baking stone in the oven and bake for 20 to 25 minutes, or until the focaccia crust is medium brown and feels dry and firm on the surface. The baking time will vary depending on the focaccia’s thickness. (If baking both loaves at once, switch them from left to right and rotate from front to back halfway through to ensure even baking.)

Use a rounded knife to loosen the loaf from the edges of the pan, then transfer the focaccia to a cutting board. Cut into wedges and serve warm, or allow to cool completely.

Disclosure: ...Noting here that not one of these I've made has ever reached the "allow to cool completely" stage. Something always seems to... happen to them first. (Like Peter. Or me. Or both of us at once.) :)

[geonij31]

Hey Newsies Fandom, LETS TALK LODGING HOUSES (by someone who wrote a 13 page essay on them for a university class)

I’ve recently delved into the world of Newsies Fanfiction and I’ve been going a little crazy over some of the representation of the Lodging House so I thought I’d offer up some FACTS regarding some things I’ve seen. For this I’m going to focus on the N°9 Duane Street Lodging-House.

(If you want a basic idea without doing too much research or reading this post, just go watch the 1992 Newsies, it’s not perfectly accurate but it’s close enough.)

THE LAYOUT: the lodging house itself was 6-7 floors. The first floor was rented out to shops like some apartment buildings.

Floor 2: The second floor consisted of a large dining-room “where nearly two hundred boys can sit down at table” (Campbell et al, 1897, 122), as well as a kitchen, laundry room, store-room, servant’s room and living quarters for the lodging’s superintendent and their family.

Floor 3: The third floor contained the school-room as well as washrooms, leaving the two top floors for the dormitories.

Floor 4-5: Each dormitory was “furnished with from fifty to one hundred beds” (Campbell et al, 1897) with spring mattresses and plenty of comforters. There were also “private rooms” which were squared spaces quartered off by curtains for privacy. These beds, though more expensive, were almost ALWAYS filled.

A couple different sources mention the lodging house having a gymnasium (with a trapeze) but they can’t seem to agree exactly where the gymnasium was. My guess is it was on the 6th floor as mentioned in an article by The Journal. The attic was used as extra space for the winters when the dormitories were full.

COSTS: lodging was 6 CENTS (or 10 for a “private room”) and meals (breakfast and dinner) were the same price. Boys could have as many helpings of a mean as they wanted! Without paying extra! From what I could tell they didn’t serve lunch because the afternoon paper came out around noon and most boys just picked up something while they were out so they wouldn’t miss a prime selling time.

(Don’t forget that most papers cost 1¢ for customers so a newsie would only have to sell 6 papers to stay the night or get a meal)

AMENITIES: THEY. HAD. SHOWERS. They had access to both hot and cold water and free towels. Boys were expected to wash up after entering the lodging house. Also, as mentioned, there was a laundry room. From my understanding it was most often used to clean the sheets of the beds which were used every day, but there were also boys said to be around helping with chores, so I wouldn’t be surprised if they were also able to wash their clothes there when they wanted.

There was also a free clothes ‘closet’ with donated clothing for boys to access. It seemed most boys chose not to make use of it out of pride, but it didn’t go UNUSED. When a kid really needed stuff they would give it to them.

SCHOOLING: boys staying at the lodging house who did not receive a pass to stay out late were expected to attend the night school held there from 7:30-9. During the day the lodging house also held trades classes and other such courses for those who couldn’t attend a full day of school for whatever reason.

There’s so much more but that’s the basics of it and some of the stuff I’ve seen people get wrong (both in fanfics AND here on Tumblr) I’ve added photos from the Lodging house as well as some links of interest for those who want to go do their own research.

Campbell, H., Knox, T. W., & Byrnes, T. (1897). NEW YORK NEWSBOYS-- WHO THEY ARE, WHERE THEY COME FROM, AND HOW THEY LIVE-- THE WAIFS AND STRAYS OF A GREAT CITY. In Darkness and Daylight; or Lights and Shadows of New York Life; A Pictoral Record of Personal Experiences by Day and Night in the Great Metropolis (pp. 111–138). essay, Hartford, Conn. The Hartford Publishing Company. Retrieved November 23, 2024, from https://archive.org/details/darknessdaylight00campuoft/page/137/mode/1up.

^ Chapter IV: NEW YORK NEWSBOYS— WHO THEY ARE, WHERE THEY COME FROM, AND HOW THEY LIVE— THEY WAIFS AND STRAYS OF A GREAT CITY.

Riis, J. A. (1890). How The Other Half Lives. Charles Scribner’s Sons. November 23, 2024, https://www.gutenberg.org/files/45502/45502-h/45502-h.htm#Page_82

^Chapter XVII: The Street Arab

Riis, J. A. (1908). The Children of the Poor. Charles Scribner’s Sons. November 23, 2024, https://www.gutenberg.org/files/32609/32609-h/32609-h.htm#Page_122

^Chapter XIV: The Outcast and the Homeless

Smallest saving bank in the world. (1896, February 16). The Journal, pp. 19–19. Retrieved November 23, 2024, from https://www.loc.gov/resource/sn84031792/1896-02-16/ed-1/?q=Great+Depression&sp=19&st=image&r=-0.421,0.085,1.842,1.398,0.

[kuruptt]

BILLY HARGROVE X READER

You’re mine, you know that. Pt.3

Click here to read Pt.1 and Pt.2 first !!!

Part 4 out now!!

**SUMMARY - Reunited with Billy, you're happy to see him trying to control his anger and for a while, it seems like he's succeeding. However, you soon discover that Billy isn't truly controlling it at all, instead, he's diverting it elsewhere, and you're about to find out where that is. Angry Billy, Protective Billy.

**TRIGGER WARNINGS - Mentions of blood and cuts. Invasion of personal space between Jason and the reader. Violent anger outburst from Billy not directed at the reader. Mentions of past trauma. I think that’s all.

**WORD COUNT - 6k

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY!!!

I do not own the rights to the following characters, all characters created and owned by the Duffer Brothers- Stranger Things.

I do NOT consent to have my work posted , translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here, it has been posted without my permission.

Requests open !!!!! :)

—————————————————————————————-

Just a few precious days had passed since you and Billy had slowly pieced your relationship back together. The rejoining came after the second, rather harsh clash with Steve. The thought of parting ways with Billy had been a painful one, you never wanted to have to do that. But you also recognised he needed a reality check, a dark reminder of what he could lose if he continued to let his anger control him.

Since your heartfelt reunion, Billy had engaged in numerous deep conversations with you, desperately seeking for strategies to tame his inner demons. You of course offered your unconditional support which went without saying, though you came to the understanding that his possessive anger around other guys that lingered around you might be a battle he'd always struggle with. But eventually, you both gently agreed that he would focus on channeling his energy into managing his anger in other areas of life, as a start.

Billy hated the feeling of explosive anger, yet at the same time it served as a raw, emotional outlet for him.

He consented to this arrangement primarily to soothe your worries and bring you peace of mind and he was genuinely committed to making it work.

Billy had gone home last night to baby sit Max, she hated it and so did he. She was old enough to look after herself but Neil insisted Billy stayed. You could’ve gone over, but you didn’t , you respected Billy’s wishes of not wanting you anywhere near that house because of his father’s angry outbursts.

It was eleven thirty a.m in the morning, your eyes peeled open, a shiver running down your spine as you dove under the sheets to shield yourself from the coldness of the morning chill. You glanced over at the alarm clock that perched on your bedside table , the bedside table that now had a wonky drawer from Billy’s heavy hands. He’d been meaning to fix it, but every time he was with you, you both forgot about it and got lost in each other’s company.

“Shit!” (Y/N) huffed under her breath.

You'd overslept, a common occurrence since Billy started staying over and disrupting your once perfect sleep schedule, though you didn't mind, not when it meant being with him, it was a price you were willing to pay in exchange for his company.

The soft cotton of your white, daisy covered sheets whispered against your legs as you sat up on the edge of the bed, brushing them off to the side and rubbing your eyes with the heels of your palms, trying to shake off the traces of sleep that remained stubborn on your eyes.

Until suddenly, your heart leaped into your throat as the roar of Billy's Camaro echoed down the street and into your drive.

Hopper, your father and also the chief of Hawkins police, had left hours ago, leaving the house blissfully empty.

You raced to the window, the broken frame resisting your efforts as you jammed it upward with a slight grunt. Another thing Billy had promised to fix. You placed your hands , palms down onto the windowsill and leaned out, the cool morning air an icy kiss that blushed your nose and cheeks with a vibrant red, along with the suns golden rays painting your skin with a gentle yet delicate warmth.

Billy emerged from the car, the slam of the door echoing on your quiet street and casually shifted his keys to the opposite hand with a jingle. He took a final, long, lingering drag on his cigarette, the cherry flaring to life , a swirling blend of molten red and a fiery orange that briefly illuminated his face.

“Hey stranger.” (Y/N) said, voice thick with sleep.

Billy looked up , his brows furrowing slightly and a deep wrinkle forming between them, to see your fragile figure perched on the windowsill and being swallowed by the folds of his baggy, oversized shirt. Your hair was hastily thrown into a messy bun , which was usually your go to.

He exhaled a cloud of smoke through a faint smile that started to play on his lips, casually leaning against his car with the right side of his upper arm taking his weight.

“You oughta be careful hanging out that thing.” He said with worry.

“Oh please, there’s literally a garage roof right underneath me, I’m fine.” (Y/N) reassured.

“Mhm, I brought your friend… Get out, shitbird.” Billy demanded.

Auburn hair spilled from the passenger side of Billy’s Camaro. It was Maxine, exiting the car smiling ear to ear, her excitement barely contained.

“Hey- oh, someone slept in.” Max giggled.

“Plans, remember? The mall.” She added, waving her hands expressively as she spoke.

“Yeah, right , Urm… Let me put some clothes on I’ll be right out.” (Y/N) blurted out in a hurry.

You whirled around and scrambled to throw on whatever clothes were within reach, fingers fumbling with buttons and zippers as you raced against the clock.

(Y/N) heard Billy’s voice distantly, rising in volume from outside of the window.

“Still wish you’d let me come with you (Y/N). It’s a Saturday , the mall will be packed.” Billy called out, his voice laced with concern.

You scoff playfully and paused. The sound of Maxine scolding Billy drifted in from outside of the window.

“You don’t even like the mall, you hate shopping, you just wanna know our secrets.” Maxine joked, playfully raising her eyebrows a few times, a smile dancing on her lips.

“What secrets.” Billy asks with confusion.

Maxine’s laughter mingled with yours, knowing she was teasing him, planting the seed of overthinking on the secrets you both share.

A tense silence hung in the air for a few seconds , before the familiar sound of scuffling and the scrape of boots broke the quiet.

Then a sudden shadow stretched long across the wall in front of you, prompting you make a sharp turn where you were now faced with Billy.

He’d once again, made the dangerous decision to climb your garage roof and stumble up to your bedroom window.

“You sure you don’t want me to come (Y/N)? I can-“

Billy’s words trailed off, his eyes snagged by the sight of the dress you had laid out, a pink mini ruffle dress which he knew hugged your figure so perfectly , his angry gaze lingered for a moment until he quickly shifted the conversation.

“Are you fucking crazy? Put that shit back. Now. Jesus , if I can’t come to watch over you , you sure as shit ain’t wearing that.” He demands, an edge of concern sharpening in his tone.

You giggled, reaching for another option, only to be met with a blunt 'nope' each time you presented something new.

“Billy, come on you’re being ridiculous now.” You chuckled. “I’m wearing this and I don’t want to hear anything more about it.” (Y/N) huffed while holding up another dress.

Billy bursts through your window in a flash of reckless energy, landing with a thud that rattles the glass. Before you can even blink, he's shifted to pin you against your wardrobe, a mischievous glint in his eyes which sparkled with a playful challenge.

“You wanna try that again, sweetheart?.” He asks, his voice a low rumble. “Because next time, I might not be so gentle.” He teased.

You smiled, a slow, genuine curve of your lips and looked up at him through your lashes with wide, doe like eyes. The innocent, trusting gaze washed over him, filling his chest with a sense of awe and protectiveness so deep it stole his breath.

The feeling you gave his body just by looking at him was incredible, an electric hum that vibrated beneath his skin, something so warm and overwhelming that no human language could ever fully capture its power.

“Fine.” (Y/N) whispers, along with a smile and a playful eye roll.

He presses a soft, warm kiss to your head and just in that moment, you both hear a loud, impatient voice piercing through the window.

“Are you guys done in there? God, I feel like I’ve been stood here for a lifetime, pleaseee , hurry up!” Max groaned.

You gave Billy a playful push to the chest before he climbed back out of your window, the familiar creek of the frame seemed to punctuate the end of your private moment.

Turning back to the mirror, you finished getting ready, pulling on your tight blue denim shorts that felt snug against your skin followed by tugging the white strappy tank top down, adjusting it so that the soft cotton settled just below your belly button. A slither of skin peeked out between the hem of the top and the waistband of your shorts, a subtle flash of bareness that caught the light with every move you made. Finally, you reached out for Billy’s denim jacket, a piece you always completed your look with, slowly rolling up the sleeves after throwing it over your exposed shoulders.

The jacket faintly smelt of him, a mix of his cheap cologne, cigarettes and a slight hint of booze, all though, the smell had started to fade after the amount of times you had worn it.

You inhaled deeply, a small smile playing on your lips.

For some reason, you’d adopted his white tank top, denim on denim look for yourself, you lived for the crazy combination.

You rushed to the bathroom, the minty scent of toothpaste filled the air as you brushed your pearly whites, the bristles rough against your gums. You splashed cool water on your face feeling the last vestiges of sleep wash away. You then brought your hair into a half up, half down style, leaving a few strands to frame your face as you always do. A quick glance in the mirror confirmed you didn’t need any makeup, you hated the stuff and Billy loved that about you. He admired your natural beauty.

You rushed down the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under the soft, grey carpet beneath the soles your feet. Your hair swayed with each step, the loose strands tickling your neck as you moved.

At the bottom, you grabbed your white Converse shoes and slipped them onto your feet, the worn soles molding comfortably to your arches. With quick, practiced movements, you laced them up, pulling the laces just tight enough for a snug fit.

The keys hung on a small hook by the door, jingling softly as you plucked them off. You swung the door open, letting in a rush of crisp, morning air that carried the scent of freshly cut grass and stepped outside, before pivoting rapidly to close the door behind you. You turned the lock with a satisfying click, securing the house and with a snap of your head, you turned to face the red head and your boyfriend.

“Ready?.” (Y/N) exhaled, catching her breath.

Maxine gave you a knowing look, her head tilted slightly, her eyebrows raised and a slight smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

“I was born ready.” She stated.

“Oh, okay, I guess it’s ignore your boyfriend and wear whatever the hell you want day.” Billy said with frustration while opening the drivers side door to his Camaro.

You ignored the snide comment and proceeded to enter the deathtrap your boyfriend called a car.

——————————————————————————-

After twenty minutes of Billy's reckless driving, topped off by Max's off key singing and your uncontrollable giggles, the parking lot of Starcourt mall finally came into view. Excitement bubbled through you and Max, a shared feeling that made your skin tingle.

Billy slowed the Camaro, its engine rumbling like a caged beast as he pulled up out the front of the mall.

“You sure you don't want me to tag along?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. "Won't even notice I'm there." He added, his eyes darting between you and Max as he puffed on his cigarette that was clamped between his thumb and index finger nervously.

“Billy!" Max exclaimed through gritted teeth and hint of annoyance in her tone.

“We’re fine Billy, I’m fine, trust me. Go work out or something, see you in a couple hours?" (Y/N) questioned, trying to reassure him with a gentle smile.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Billy responded, his voice coated with a subtle anger, a clear indication of his desire to watch over you.

A soft ‘I love you’ escaped your lips, trying to soothe his unspoken worries.

“Yeah, I love you too sweetheart.” He sighed, the fight draining out of him.

He wished you'd let go of the self reliant act, just once and allow him to take care of you. But you wouldn't, your independent spirit burned as fiercely as his own stubborn nature.

Billy sped off, his Camaro left a dark, hot tire mark etched onto the sun baked concrete beneath you, the scent of burning rubber floating in the air.

You and Max exchanged a knowing glance, a silent agreement passing between you and wide grins spreading across your faces.

“Let’s go!” Max said in excitement, grabbing your hand and pulling you deeper into the mall.

—————————————————————————————-

An hour and thirty minutes had slipped by, the weight of the plastic shopping bags squeezed at your fingertips. A mutual craving for something sweet sparked between you and Max and Scoops A-hoy, with its charm and promise of frozen delights, called you and Max closer.

You hurried over and quickly found a booth.

Steve was behind the counter, working his usual shift, scooping and serving ice cream with practiced ease.

You and Max swapped a discrete glance, a silent understanding passing between you to keep your distance.

The remains of Tommy H's party still lingered on Steve's face , the fading bruises now just a subtle yellowish colour against his cheekbone, a reminder of a night best left in the past.

Max called Robin over and ordered a towering banana split, a combination of flavors you personally hated. You, on the other hand, stuck to your classic, vanilla ice cream, topped with a generous helping of cherries and a shower of colourful sprinkles.

Steve brought over your order. He handed you your cone and winked as he placed a small box of extra cherry’s on your table, a small way of saying, ‘I'm not mad at you’. You smiled back at Steve with nerves surging through your body and took a bite from your ice cream cone.

You and Max devoured your sweet treats, the cold ice cream a welcome respite from the sudden wave of heat that entered Hawkins.

As you were about to stand, a sudden collision sent you tumbling back into your seat, your shopping bags scattering across the floor. A familiar voice apologised.

Jason Carver.

Someone your boyfriend hated with a passion, you and Max both knew that.

He quickly gathered your belongings and placed them back onto the table. He then slid into the seat beside you, his presence immediately altering the atmosphere. Max shot you a confused look, her eyebrows raised in question as you sunk deeper into your seat. Jason mirrored your movement, closing the gap between you.

“Hey, (Y/N), didn't expect to see you here." He adds, placing a hand to your knee.

You glanced at max, a worried expression on your face and gently pushed his hand away from you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you uh- where’s Billy, he not around?” Jason questioned.

“He’ll be here soon”. (Y/N) replied, giving an awkward smile.

Billy wasn’t due to pick you and Maxine up for another twelve minutes, but each tick of the clock felt like an eternity as you were stuck with Jason Carver.

You shot a desperate glance at the clock, silently begging for Billy to arrive and rescue you.

Steve, was observing the situation, he caught your distress and fixed Jason with a harsh glare. He might not be able to take on your boyfriend, but he sure as hell could take Jason Carver.

It had been over fifteen excruciating minutes of you and Max awkwardly enduring Jason's one sided conversation. His long standing crush on you was no secret, but there was always something about him that felt… unsettling.

Finally, Max swooped in, a welcome distraction that saved you from the painful conversation that had your ears burning with impatience.

“We best get going, Billy should be here any minute.” She adds , a subtle warning to her tone in an attempt to intimidate Jason.

“Yeah, let’s go.” (Y/N) agreed.

Jason unfolded himself from the booth, a smirk playing on his lips as he gestured for you to pass.

As you squeezed past him, he seized the opportunity, spinning you around with unexpected force. His arm slithered around your back, trapping you against him, while his other hand cupped your face, his fingers tightening slightly as if to assert control. He dipped his head, his eyes locking onto yours and leaned in for a kiss you definitely didn’t want. Jason had clearly read all the signs wrong.

The air crackled with tension, but before his lips could make contact, Steve, in a state of fury, propelled himself over the counter, wood splintering under his weight. He crashed into Jason with a brutal force, yanking him away from you with a deathly snarl. Steve rained down a violent series of blows on Jason's face, each punch a raw expression of his protective rage. He pushes Jason to the floor and turns to face you.

“Are you okay.” Steve asks , voice riddled with concern.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay I just, I didn’t expect him to do that.” (Y/N) said in shock.

Jason had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his move for quite some time now. With Billy gone, he saw his chance, foolishly believing he could charm his way into your heart. He fantasized about winning you over, about you falling head over heels for him.

Never. Not in this lifetime, or in any for that matter. Your heart belonged to Billy.

“Thanks Steve.” (Y/N) said with a smile, Steve returning one back.

You and Max burst out of Scoops A-hoy, a flurry of hurried steps echoing through the mall as you barreled through the doors. There, leaning against his Camaro, was Billy. He was smoking a cigarette, a wall of frustration swirling around his head.

“You’re late again. Do you know how long I’ve been parked here? Twenty minutes, Jesus, get in.” He grumbled, throwing away the cigarette with unnecessary force.

Billy sighed and threw his arms open for you to climb into , feeling guilty at his previous choice of words.

You approached him and he pulled you into a hug, but a sharp twinge shot through your back, a painful reminder of the mark Jason had left. It throbbed.

Jason hadn't meant to hurt you, but his hands shouldn't have been on you at all, let alone attempting a kiss. Inflicting pain was never part of his plan to win you over.

A flicker of concern crossed Billy's face and you shot a silent plea at Max, begging her to keep quiet.

"You okay, sweetheart?" Billy asked, his hand gently cupping your cheek.

"Yeah, just missed you.” (Y/N) replied, forcing a smile.

Max gagged.

“Get a room.” She demanded, breaking the tension with a playful eye roll.

He latched onto your lips and swirled his tongue around your mouth , your fingers raking through the loose curls of his mullet as he does it. He soon pulls away and presses a final , soft kiss to your lips that were now a darker shade of pink from the pressure of Billy’s kiss.

“I missed you too baby, i told you, you should’ve let me come with you.” He said proudly.

Billy opened the passenger door for you, Max already scrambling into the back, she pulled the seat back towards her and you sank into the leather, a sigh escaping your lips.

Seconds later Billy slid in beside you roaring the Camaro to life and speeding out of the malls parking lot with screeching tyres.

——————————————————————————-

Back at home, the house felt empty without your father, Hopper. He was used to working late, but his absence always hung in the air. You invited Billy and Maxine inside, hoping to fill the silence. They strongly agreed and made their way inside, trailing behind you.

The three of you gathered in the kitchen, Billy’s stomach rumbled as he declared his hunger with a grin.

You playfully rolled your eyes and without hesitation, you turned to the task of feeding him, rummaging through the pantry.

As you reached high into the cupboard for a bag of chips, his denim jacket had risen up with your movements, exposing the angry red handprint that marked the skin of your lower back.

Billy's eyes widened, his appetite now completely gone and his playful nature instantly exiting the room and instead, filling it with a burning rage.

“What. The fuck. Is that?.” Billy questioned through heavy breaths while deepening the bass in his voice.

You didn’t hear him right away, so you continued to rummage through the pantry.

“Hey!” He shouts.

You snap your head and turn to face him.

“What?” (Y/N) asked with a worried look painting across her face.

Billy pushed himself away from the counter, he moved with a sudden urgency, closing the distance between you both in a heartbeat. His hands, large and strong, gripped your waist, fingers digging in slightly as he spun you around In a swift, almost frantic motion. He lifted the back of his denim jacket away from your delicate skin and repeated his question.

“I said what the fuck, is that.” He repeated, pointing at the mark on your lower back, keeping his gaze on yours with it burning into the back of your skull, his blood boiling to even higher temperatures.

“Oh it’s nothing I-“

Billy cut you off.

“Nothing? That doesn’t look like nothing to me, who the fuck did this to you? when did this happen?” He questioned with a glaze of fury burning over his eyes.

“It was at the mall, me and Maxine were eating ice cream at Scoops A-hoy and-“

Billy cut you off for the second time.

“Steve fucking Harrington, he’s a dead ma-“

Billy didn’t get to finish, this time you cut him off, your impatience growing with his continued failure to listen.

“No, god this is why we argue, you don’t listen. Steve was working there, yes. But Steve didn’t do this, he helped me.” (Y/N) started, rubbing the sweaty palms of her hands down her face as she takes in a deep breath and exhales sharply.

“We were about to leave and Jason Carver ended up sitting right next to me, blocking me in, he spoke to us for like way over fifteen minutes, our ears could barely take anymore so Max told him we were leaving and he got up to let us go, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back around and he tried to kiss me, the handprint was a pure accident, he just tried to keep me from falling because he turned me too fast. Steve jumped over the counter and beat his ass. It’s done, leave it Billy, please.” (Y/N) pleaded.

“Jason fucking Carver. If it’s not one rat it’s the other. First Steve and now Jason. I’m going to kill that son of a-“

Billy’s sentence was cut short for the final time.

“Billy! You promised. Are you really going to do this again, after what happened last time?” (Y/N) questioned, her brows knitting together slightly.

Remembering that he had promised he’d find new ways to control his anger, he gritted his teeth, eyes still wide and let go of you.

“Fine. I’ll be back, I’m gonna take a walk.” He huffed.

Billy had left his pack of crumpled cigarettes behind, which was strange considering he never went anywhere without them, especially when he needed to calm his nerves.

You glanced at Max, a knot of unease tightening in your stomach. It was getting late, so you offered her a place to stay, leading her to the spare bedroom and getting her settled in. But even as you fluffed pillows and made small talk, the anxiety continued to churn within you.

You hurried back downstairs, hoping to find Billy, but he was still nowhere to be seen. Just as your worry began to escalate, your father, Hopper , had arrived home, his presence a familiar comfort as he greeted you with a tired smile.

“Hey kid, you okay.” He asks softly.

“Yeah dad , thanks, urm- did you see Billy on your way down here ?” (Y/N) questioning her father nervously, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

“Uhhh nope. But his car is parked in my driveway and I had to park my truck out on the street, so that situation needs to be solved… immediately, I mean who does he think he I-“ Your father paused, noticing the worried look that glazed over your (Y/E/C) eyes. “Everything okay, he’s not causing you any trouble?” Your father asked with concern coating his voice.

Your father never approved of Billy, not really. It wasn't just overprotectiveness, though there was plenty of that, it was the instinctive urge to keep any male from even breathing the same air as his daughter. He knew Billy looked after you, and he appreciated that, not that he wanted to. But your father needed to assert his dominance, to make it clear he could protect you too. The problem was Billy.

Billy, had this infuriating way of making everyone else feel small, like -he- was the only one capable of keeping you safe. And that, more than anything, grated on your father.

“No, no. I’m gonna go and look for him, it’s been a while. Urm- Maxine is sleeping in the spare room, I said she could spend the night, we were at the mall all day, I love you, dad, I’ll be back soon.” (Y/N) said , slamming the door on her way out leaving no room for a response.

You paced the street, your eyes scanning for any sign of Billy, the same knot of worry tightening, but this time in your chest. A faint idea of where he might be tugged at your thoughts.

Billy lived just two streets over, practically behind your house, yet he always drove, a fact you'd never questioned.

But now, the reason seemed glaringly obvious. You clung to the hope that he was home, doing exactly what he promised, controlling his anger. A surge of pride washed over you at the thought of him resisting the urge to drive to Jason Carver's house and unleash his fury.

Driven by a mix of anxiety and determination, you decided to take the daring walk to the place Billy refused to call home. He had always been adamant about keeping you away and you had never crossed its threshold, despite knowing its location.

He couldn't bear the thought of exposing you to his father, Neil and his abusive nature, even when his father wasn't there. Billy didn't trust that Neil wouldn't forget something and unexpectedly return, finding you in his home and unleashing his uncontrollable temper. He desperately wanted to shield you from that side of his life, the ugliness and the potential of harm. And so far, he’d done a great job of doing so.

The walk had stretched into what felt like an eternity, but finally, you arrived, looking up at the horror house stood before your very eyes.

Muffled thuds echoed from within, making you reluctant to intrude.

You knew Neil was out for the evening with Susan, yet the nagging possibility of his early return lingered in your mind.

Unable to identify the source of the unsettling noises, you proceeded to walk up the very few steps to the front door, one foot in front of the other.

Upon arrival, you lifted your fist, skin still tingling from the late nights chill and paused, hovering in anticipation of a knock, but you reconsidered, deeming it pointless.

Neil’s car was noticeably absent, confirming your suspicion that the sounds that pulsed from the inside were more than likely, Billy.

You bit the bullet and turned the handle, pushing the door inward and stepping into the unknown, utterly unprepared for the scene that awaited you.

Creeping down the hallway, each step measured and silent, you froze as Billy's voice roared through the house.

It was a sound you'd never heard from him before, raw and full of hatred, laced with a pain that made your blood run cold.

Dread swirled in your stomach as you imagined what could be happening. Every instinct screamed at you to turn back, but you couldn't shake the feeling that he needed you.

“Fuckkkk, ahhh.” Billy shouted at the top of his lungs. “Stupid - fucking - ahhh!!” He shouted again, this time louder than the last.

The smash that came next was deafening.

You peeked around his bedroom door, eyes wide, and froze still. It was like a monster had taken over Billy.

The bed was completely flipped on its side, the bedside table that once stood tall, now splintered on the floor, its contents scattered with it and glass from the mirror he'd just shattered, glittered on the carpet.

Billy was stood in the corner of his bedroom, repeatedly punching the wardrobe before him, one door already ripped off its hinges.

You stood there, paralyzed, trying to process the scene.

"Billy?" You whispered, your voice barely audible.

But he didn’t hear. You tried again, louder this time, but he was still lost in his rage.

Summoning every ounce of courage, you reached out and grabbed his arm, trying to stop him from throwing another punch.

He lashed out, his elbow launching you across the room, sending shards of glass slicing into your skin as you landed on the floor.

You quickly stood up, as fast as you could, fear jolting through your veins.

Billy pivoted, closing the distance between you in a single stride with it pushing you back and slammed his fist into the wall , just inches from your head.

You glared up at him, trapped.

His fist remained embedded in the wall for a few , harsh moments, his eyes widening in shock as he finally registered who you were.

He pulled his hand back, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his gaze locking onto yours, searching for some sign that any of this was real.

“(Y-) (Y/N)”. He stutters.

You stared at him, shoulders hunched so high they nearly touched your ears, the panic still a live wire beneath your skin. You knew he hadn't recognized you, knew he would never intentionally hurt you, but his actions had shattered something inside.

Flashbacks from your past crashed over you, each one a painful stab as your body betrayed you with a violent trigger. Both hands were clenched into tight fists, nails digging into your palms, pressing yourself against the wall of Billy's bedroom, trying to disappear into the shadows.

"What the fuck are you doing here, (Y/N)? Why did you come her- shit... what did I do? What did I do?" Billy's voice slowed into a ragged whisper, his eyes wide and unfocused, swimming with tears.

Confusion twisted his features as he struggled to piece together the missing moments.

He could barely grasp what had just happened, only the lingering heat of his anger remained.

Then it hit him, like a tone of bricks all at once.

Billy's head snapped down to the left, his gaze falling on the shattered glass of his mirror, the blood blooming like dark flowers on the shards.

The memory flooded back and his expression shifted from shock to a horrified concern. He reached for your face with shaky hands and you flinched at his touch.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry I- I fucked up, im sorry, fuck , what have I done.” Billy cried in a state of panic.

He lets go of your face and quickly kicked the underside of his bed with a sharp, violent blow, hard enough to rattle the entire frame.

“Fuck!” He roared.

He whirled back around to you and gently pulled your hands up , his eyes scanning your recent injury’s , his face crumpled with a mixture of guilt and fear as he took in the vibrations of your hands, the visible evidence of his outburst.

“Fuck (Y/N) I didn’t know it was you I sware i would never fucking hurt you, you know that right, you know that, I’m so sorry baby, I am so, so fucking sorry.” Billy choked out with tears welling in his eyes.

He cupped your face for a second time, this time holding it there as a gesture of apology and placing a kiss to your forehead. He pulled you forwards, attempting to peel you away from the wall that held you captive.

“You’re okay, you’re okay , come here.” He whispered. Pulling you into a tight embrace.

He cradled your head , burying it against the solid wall of his chest, with his other hand a firm anchor against the upper part of your back.

You snapped back into reality, gasping for air in a choked sob, the silence broke. Tears streamed down your face, a painful wave of emotions unleashed. Billy cried with you, his own tears silent, a mirror of your pain he desperately wished he could erase.

“I’m sorry , I’m here, I’m so fucking sorry please , god , please forgive me I’m so, so sorry, my sweet girl, i’d never hurt you, okay, I’d never hurt you, you know that, come on.” He sighed , whole body shaking with a mixture of rage and shock.

“Billy, what is going on.” (Y/N) muffled against his chest.

He took a deep breath in, before an attempt at explaining himself.

“I tried , I tried to control my anger for you and I couldn’t do it, so I figured if I took myself away so you didn’t have to see it, you’d be better off , you know, I- God I could kill him. If I was there and you had just let me come with you this never would’ve fucking happened. He’s not getting away with this , not a chance , leaving a mark, a handprint, on my girl, no! I need you to understand that for me baby, okay? I need you to understand that I can’t keep making these promises anymore, it never works. I won’t let people hurt you and I need you to stop pretending like you can take care of yourself, look what happens to you. It’s my job to do that and I’m failing by letting you walk away every time. Let me do my job and stop asking me not to fight. Yes, okay, I promise , like already did before that I’ll find new ways to control my anger and I’ll try to fight less but when it comes to you baby, YOU. I can’t and I won’t, I will destroy anyone , you hear me, anyone, that thinks they can even breathe the same air as you, let alone lay a finger on you, do you understand me?” Billy questions after blurting out as much of an explanation as he could.

You give him a nod, shame burning in your cheeks and a stammer of an apology for making him so angry. He immediately cups your face, his thumbs gently wiping away your tears.

“Hey.” He says softly. “None of this is your fault, okay? Not even a little bit.” He adds with reassurance.

“Billy, your hands.” (Y/N) says, voice laced with worry.

Even though he knew your hands were cut and torn from the glass that scattered across the floor, he couldn’t believe you were more concerned for his than your own.

*Why?*

The question hammered in his mind. He didn’t understand why you cared for him more than yourself, or even cared for him at all. He didn’t believe he was worthy of your love and the realization suddenly twisted in his gut.

“Don't.” He says roughly, pulling his hands away.

“Don't waste your concern on me, this is my fault, let’s get you cleaned up and out of here.” He adds, holding your hands in his firm ones and guiding you to the bathroom.

You quickly pulled away from his firm grip.

“No, your knuckles are bleeding, we need to-“

Billy stopped you from speaking.

“(Y/N) stop.” He insisted, the hallway falling silent, with only the echo of Billy’s demand left behind.

“You’re always doing what’s best for me, let me do what’s best for you, please for the love of god just let me do my job, I love you and you’re hurt and you’re hurt because of me, I need to fix this.” He added painfully with raw emotions stabbing at his chest.

Billy silently led you to the bathroom, his touch gentle as he cleaned and bandaged your wounds.

Once he was done, you returned the favour.

You settled onto the cool tile floor and nestled between Billy's legs with his arms a comforting embrace around you. Regret hung heavy in the air, unspoken apologies filling the space. He longed to protect you, yet felt like he was constantly failing.

After a long, quiet half an hour, Billy stood tall, pulling you up with him.

“Let's get you home.” He murmured, concern washing over his face.

“Your dad will be worried, and mine… well, not so much but he could decide to come home whenever he pleases. I need to get you out of here." He added.

Billy scooped you up without struggle, your legs wrapped tight around his waist and you buried your face in the crook of his neck, arms loosely draped over his shoulders, as he carried you towards the front door.

“Billy, What about your room? Won’t you get in trouble.” (Y/N) asked with a concerned tone.

“Don’t care right now.” He stated.

——————————————————————————-

The walk home blurred by, a hazy mix of sleep and Billy's comforting presence.

He climbed the garage roof with a surprising strength, carefully carrying you up with him and entering through your bedroom window and gently laying you on your bed, pulling the sheets up to your chin.

You later learned that Max had cleverly covered for you, telling your father that you would’ve found Billy and that she'd let you in when you arrived home.

Billy lingered for a moment, watching you laying there peacefully, before attempting to quietly slip away.

“Stay… please.” (Y/N) pleaded.

You both yearned for the comfort of each other’s arms, so Billy didn’t refuse.

“You sure?” He questioned, looking at you through heavy eyelids.

“Yes, get in.” (Y/N) said , her voice still thick in sleep.

You pulled back the covers, inviting Billy to join you.

He quickly stripped down to his shorts and slipped into bed beside you. He held you close, his voice a low murmur of repeated apologies. You gently hushed him, knowing his remorse was genuine and with that he pulled you even closer, his fingers softly playing with your hair.

He hoped the familiar, soothing rhythm would lull you into a deep sleep, but then he heard you mutter a few words.

“I love you, Billy. Don’t beat yourself up, okay? I know you’d never hurt me, it’s okay.” (Y/N) reassured.

“I love you too sweetheart, I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you, god I love you so much.” He whispered into your hair.

“Let’s get some sleep, we’ll go over to your place tomorrow a clean up the mess.” (Y/N) insisted.

“No! You’re not-“

You cut Billy’s words short.

“Yes, I am. I want to help, you wanted to do your job so let me do mine, if your father comes home I’ll leave through the window, okay?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Fine.” Billy huffed.

“Goodnight sweetheart.” He added.

“Goodnight Billy, I love you.” (Y/N) murmured almost silently.

“I love you too baby.” Billy said while taking in a deep breath , cuddling deeper into you. “So much.”

Part 4 anyone?????? :) Pt.1 - Pt.2 - Pt.4

@klutzylaena @aryannavspx @alagalaska @alexissuave @alagalaska-makes @aieis1 @broadwaybabe18 @bryandechartisasmolbean @bunnyfamily @bugs-n-roses @ballsinyourdraws @chandlerlovesme @cannibalhellhound @cryptid-demon-antics @caylieeh @cuntr0lme @dameepymeeses @daisy-rome @drenix004 @dragonlorpar @dnddevil22 @empath-bunny @everythingsgucci98 @enmoana33 @ellajar @e @fishfooddude @fatherfood @flickerluxe @fanofgunsnroses @frostedflakes180 @gunlikesgirl @grxnde-dwt @garden-of-vegan @hgvbnkjhdccg @hunnybuncounsumers @hbkchokeme @hbkchokeme @hraegant @harley-kalani @ich-liebe-dich-mehr47 @ireallydgafsblog @i-crav3-blo0d @imjusthearforthegoodfics @itsjustb @jazzlynn29 @jasperstrangers @jazzyjazzzzz @justafanofanimes-blog @joanagaray08

[froggibus]

Rose Quartz - Venture

Pairing: Venture x gn! reader

Genre: fluff, bit of crack, one droplet of angst

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: in which Venture wants to confess their feelings for you, but keeps giving you rocks instead

CW: awkwardness, crushes, kind of unrequited love, mentions of crystals/rocks and their meanings, Venture avoiding their feelings, one (1) argument, aggressive kissing, reader calls Venture "nerd", NOT PROOFREAD

NEW BANNERS!!! IM SO EXCITED!! ive been wanting a more cohesive graphic for my posts rather than just reusing gifs, so I made these and I adore them!! first time writing about Venture and tbh it's a little juvenile but it kinda works with the theme. they're so adorable and i absolutely love them ^.^ (also happy canadian moment that they gave us an interesting canadian hero finally lol)

“Hey! Y/n! Wait up!” Heavy boots trail after Sloan’s voice, prompting you to turn around. 

“What’s up?”

They give you a toothy grin, holding up a hand to pause while they catch their breath. It’s a hot day in Petra, nearly scorching with all of the gear you have on just to enter the dig site. Even standing in the sun is enough to have you panting and sweaty. 

Sloan releases one last heavy breath and closes the last few steps between the two of you. “I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

They’re so close you can see the sweat shimmering across their brow, smelling that familiar earthy scent of theirs that you’ve thought about for weeks now. The sun beats down overhead and you’re sure they must be boiling under their safety equipment. 

You cock your head to the side, “what is it?”

“I just—I’ve been thinking for a while, you know? And I really thought that maybe—is it really hot out here? I’m really hot.”

You nod in agreement, cupping your hands around your eyes to block out the sun. You were just on your way back to the shuttle to your hotel room when they caught you, and you have little interest in staying in this heat. 

“I should probably get going,” you admit, “it’s boiling and I need to eat.”

Sloan agrees all too quickly. “Yeah, yeah. I—I just wanted to know,” they loose a sigh, “do you want this rock?”

You’re taken aback for only a moment as they reach out a sweaty palm with a jagged pink crystal no bigger than a dollar coin. You reach out and grab it, your fingertips brushing their hand as you do. Sloan doesn’t miss the way you shiver from the contact. 

“It’s pretty, what is it?”

Sloan scratches the back of their neck. “It’s rose quartz, I just thought you might find it pretty or something…”

“It’s beautiful, thank you.” You tuck the rock into your pocket. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah…see you tomorrow.”

Sloan watches as you spin on your heel and slowly disappear into the horizon. As soon as you’re out of eyesight, they let themselves sigh in disappointment and drop to their knees. 

Confessing is much harder than they thought it would be. 

—

You hold the rose quartz the whole shuttle ride to the hotel, rolling the cold stone across your aching palms. It really is a beautiful stone, even if it serves as a physical reminder of your own disappointment. 

You thought, just for a moment, that they might feel the same way as you. That they were going to ask you on a date, at least. But you’ve thought that the past few weeks, and it’s only bred chagrin. 

The cold air of your hotel room doesn’t feel nearly as nice as it should. Your skin still feels sticky, a layer of dust stuck to the sweat from the sweltering sun you spent the day under. But it’s not the sweat or the dust that has you feeling withdrawn—it’s the sight of the stones lining your night table. 

You place the rose quartz at the end of a line of eight stones, admiring them all together. It’s a beautiful array of clear, pink and green stones. Some are smooth—like they’ve already been tumbled—and others are jagged, found raw and expertly cut from the rock they once formed in. 

Your favourite, given to you just a few days ago, was a raw piece of rhodochrosite. Sloan had a big grin when they gave it to you, the stone warm from them holding it in their palm for so long.

You roll the stone in your palm for only a moment before ordering your usual room service, shrugging off your clothes and going to take a shower. The cold water feels amazing on your skin, washing the heat and shame of the day down the drain. For the time you’re in the shower, you hardly even think about Sloan or the collection of rocks starting to accumulate. 

You only get out when your phone buzzes with the usual courtesy notification letting you know the room service cart is on its way up to you. The air conditioning feels much better after showering, chilling the bite of your skin. You dress quickly in pyjamas and get to the door just in time to let in the kind lady with your dinner.

It’s the same woman as the last few nights—an older lady with a dazzling smile that she flashes at you as she crosses the threshold into your room.

“Same as usual?” She prompts while she lays out the dishes on the small table in the corner.

“You know it.”

She finishes laying out your spread, the delicious scent nearly making your mouth water, before grabbing the cart and starting to back out of the room. She pauses just as she gets past your nightstand, her eyes flicking over the array of stones.

“Well, aren’t those pretty.” You smile in agreement, “they are, aren’t they?”

“Lots of love stones,” she says. “Were they gifted to you?”

“Love stones?”

“Yes,” she nods, “like rose quartz, and rhodochrosite. They represent love in certain practices.”

The information is like a slap in the face, leaving you so dazed that you forget to thank the woman as she leaves your room. Love stones? Why would Sloan be giving you love stones?

You’re near frantic as you collect all of the stones into your hand, forgetting your shoes as you burst out of your hotel room and storm down the hall to Sloan’s. You’re not sure if they’re even back from the site yet, or what you’ll say to them when you get to their room—all you’re sure of is that you want to know why they gave you the stones. The real reason.

Sloan is utterly confused when they open their door to see you there, hair wet and dressed in pyjamas with no shoes, holding out a handful of rocks. “Hi?”

“Why did you give these to me?”

Sloan swallows, dark eyes examining the stones clutched in your palm. “I just thought you’d like them.” A lie, a complete and utter lie.

They curse themselves for being such a coward and not confessing sooner—but you’re just so cute, and they like you so much, and they felt so damn awkward trying to tell you they liked you. Except now, with you standing so close to them, water dripping from your hair and rendering your pyjama top near see-thru, they feel much more awkward.

“Just because you thought I’d like them?” You’re breathing hard, eyebrows knit together in confusion, “or because they’re apparently ‘love stones’, whatever that means.”

From the way their mouth hangs open, you know you’ve caught them.

“Listen, I—I—”

You cut them off, “did you know what the meanings were when you gave them to me?”

“Yes,” they sigh defeatedly. “But I thought you knew!”

“Of course I didn’t know!”

Sloan peers down the hall, hoping no one is around to hear your rising voices. “Why don’t you come in?”

“Why? So you can keep leading me in circles, so I can keep wondering why you don’t feel the same way as I do?” The words come out before you can stop them, even the hand you clamp over your mouth doing nothing to keep them in.

Sloan’s shoulders sag. “I wasn’t leading you in circles.”

“Weren’t you?” You shake your head, turning away from them. “You just wanted to hide behind a bunch of rocks forever.”

“Y/n, wait!”

You shake your head, starting to walk away. You don’t get far, as Sloan grabs your shoulder and spins you to face them. You have no time to react as they grab the back of your head and shove your face into theirs.

The second their lips meet yours, all of the built up disappointment from the past few weeks melts away. You relax into their touch, letting their calloused fingers tangle in your hair. They taste citrusy, over just a hint of salt, and electrify you like a shot of tequila.

You pull away breathlessly, looking at them over your lashes. They’re smirking like an idiot, eyes practically sparkling.

“Still think I’m leading you in circles?”

You rest your hand on their waist, pulling them back to you in desperation. “Shut up and kiss me again, nerd.”

overwatch masterlist | masterlist

(if you enjoy content like this, interactions go a long way! comments, likes & rbs are always greatly appreciated ^-^ !!)

[accidentwithapen]

Hiii!!! GIGS in Space AU Once Again on my mind so heres a quick plot rundown allll put in one post

If you read through this all i love you <3

If not, have this grian doodle anyways

So Grian, Scar, Impulse, and Skizz are all prisoners in this like,,, dystopian space society. All are imprisoned for different reasons:

- Grian is a vandalist, doing graffiti and setting minor explosions around different government/company sites. When arrested and asked why he does what he does, he claims "it's about the principal"

- Impulse worked as a mechanic for a major company, but an incident resulting in a death and 3 injuries gets wrongfully pinned on him. He still believes that all circumstances surrounding his arrest are just one big misunderstanding. The company, however, doesnt care.

- Skizz is a hacker, and good at it too. He logs into the system of the same company Impulse worked for, and subsequently gets caught red-handed.

- Nobody knows why Scar is arrested. There are many rumors spread around the prison wing that he and Grian are in that Scar is Secretly A Mob Boss for the Con Corp. family. But surely someone so clumsy and silly cant possibly be so powerful, right? thats what Grian thinks, anyways.

So these doofuses have two options.

1. they can serve their sentence rotting in a shitty space prison with Nothing To Do and being forced into manual labor

2. they can get out slightly earlier after enough time spent doing Community Service

They go for the second one, which Happens to be gathering extraterrestrial data for Impulse's old Company (i need a name for it dear god its ridiculous at this point). So after all independently choosing the community service option, they get grouped into a squad of the four of them and get sent out to different semi-abandoned planets to hunt monsters/ghosts/aliens and collect data. What they eventually figure out is that the reason they are given so much freedom with their community service is that they are not intended to survive. They devise an escape plan and on their third mission together, they successfully escape together.

Its important to note that Scar and Grian came from the same cell block, so Grian decides to tell Skizz and Impulse about the mob boss rumors (as a prank, of course), and warns them that Scar Doesn't Like Swearing. basically scaring everyone into facing these cosmic horrors with a PG attitude

So the GIGS escape with a real shitty spacecraft and are on the run from the government (theres no way they're gonna succeed like this) up until they get captured. but not by the government.

They get captured by morally gray, filthy rich, weapons manufacturer Doc. (or his hitman at least, one Geminitay)

Doc explains to the GIGS that he has paid all of their bail fees, and now they must work off their debt to him. as delivery boys.

Doc enlists Gem to look after the GIGS during their deliveries. Gem Does Not Like This but shes not gonna say no to her boss.

Basically the rest of it is a silly stupid sci fi sitcom about funny found family doing goofy delivery missions and learning more about each other along the way.

Oh, and remember those rumors about Scar? Theyre all true. And there are Consequences for his absence in the family....

Heres some extra little character notes:

- While Impulse believes his arrest was a genuine mistake at first, during their second bout of community service, he and skizz discover how little the company actually cares about its employees and Impulse gets real mad that his entire livelihood is a lie and goes ham and wrecks some shit (good for him)

- Gem was taken in by Doc at a very young age, with life-threatening injuries. Doc used his experience with mad sciencery to fix her up with whatever he had on hand, mostly animal parts. now shes a hybrid.

- Gem sees Doc as a father figure, but has No Clue how to express that so from her perspective shes just Really Loyal to her boss and doing nothing more than paying off a life debt.

- Grian has a mycelium infection running up his arm that he keeps secret from everyone else. the first in the group to find out about it is Gem

- Scar uses mobility aids of many varieties, but mostly uses a cane with robotic leg splints on missions

Anyways thats all for now, if you wanna see some more doodles and stuff you can look around my gigs in space tag!!

[gallus-rising]

ok so question since i think you'd know. should i join flight rising. i need a new petsim style game in my life. if so what should i do when i start flight rising???

cracks knuckles ok i'll try my best. first off i'm one of the crazies with a dedicated Gen 1 lair, which means i'm not using one of the game's main mechanics: breeding pretty dragons. normal people will spend months searching the for sales, borrowing and loaning dragons with other people, all to find the perfect pair(s) to create the perfect baby. i'm fully at the mercy of RNG and buying dragons with mediocre colors for exorbitant prices because the fact it doesn't have parents is a status symbol lmao

ok things to do

incredibly customizable. idk if i've every played something else that let's me fancy up my pngs this much. as a few examples here is: Dexdee, on over-dressed nightmare with her familiar, cute background, and user made accent. Coco Jumbo, he's wearing an invisibility cloak so you can't actually see the dragon only the clothes it's wearing and his named familiar Polnareff. Nina Tucker who is not wearing anything, doesn't have a familiar and is permanently in the baby pose

all dragons have 3 poses: baby, male, and female. and there's items to let you lock them into the baby pose, freely swap between the M and F poses, and make them face the other direction. they even recently added animated effects to layer over dragons! oh and eye types! back to Dexdee and Nina up there you can see Dexdee has totally normal eyes but i gave Nina spooky glowy eyes. there is also a Lot of apparel. just tons of clothes to dress these things with

dragons also have bios to customize via html. stick a meme in in, put together some fancy Aesthetic™ shit, join the masses of us with cool bio layouts full of unwritten lore orz

if you wanna do fancy stuff but don't know what to do there's tons of user made guides and bio templates

the rest of the game:

(hopefully i've labeled this coherently) in the "play" tab you've got the main ways of making money. earn 75000 treasure a day at the fairgrounds doing minigames. Flight Rising's economy isn't crazy so 75kt a day is actually enough to let you enjoy the game lol. especially since one game specifically, Glitter & Gloom, is busted and can be used to max out your treasure cap in about 30-40 minutes. coliseum is the second primary mechanic. make your dragons fight the local wildlife at one of the 23 venues for unique items. it's unfortunately the grind-est part of the game while also being the best money maker and biases of most on-site events 😔

next thing to do: the forums

Flight Rising has a very active community. my main topic hangouts are dragon share which is dedicated entirely to fawning over each other's pngs and asking for advice on how to dress or improve them or whatever, all the topics where people sell art, and the Light dominance topic (i'll get to that next). but there's site discussions, RP, art and writing, The Economy. etc etc

i outlined the spot where your chosen factions' private discussions are. if you sign up i highly recommend checking those out because they'll have pinned guides and user run resources

final thing to do. this one is totally ignorable but it's one of the Big community things

to stop lairs from completely filling up you can "exalt" your dragons, which lorewise means they've been sent off to serve your faction's deity. when you exalt a dragon it gives you a little money, and you can level it up to get even more money! people have it fully down to a science how to best level dragons and when to exalt to optimize payouts. i've even participated in some of the experiments lol

the faction that exalts the most cumulative levels (relative to faction population size so the smaller flight's have a chance) in one week wins and gets special bonus for the week (second and third too) these things are fully scheduled community run events. i mean like people coordinate these things a year out to set up raffles, art sales, fun games, badges and adoptables, make the whole thing themed, and even coordinate with other factions to fight each other for first place! flights do not get first place accidentally because there's always one pushing to take it. we've got a community run newsletter for this shit. i promise dom is more fun then it sounds >.>

dominance is definitely something you're gonna wanna read up in your flight's private discussions (some flights are more into dom than others) and is not something you wanna do when first joining, but while you're getting the ropes of the site it's one thing to keep an eye on as something to do

this is not an actively but it's a widely beloved feature of the site. gems, the premium currency, and be earned in small amounts doing site stuff and freely sold and traded between players. it's entirely possible to enjoy all site features (mostly buying special gem-only items and skins/accents(cool player made art your dragons can wear(that's an entire creative and economy communities of it's own but this post is getting to long lol)) without spending a cent 😎👌

and finally a Site Culture Thing: it's pretty inclusive! there's a few pride items that cover a variety of identities and multiple trans NPCs. instead of fantasy world ""Christmas"" our winter event is Halloween....... 2! Valentine's Day explicitly includes platonic relationships, also the Valentine's Day shopkeeper is a wheelchair user! another shopkeeper uses a cane :] Big Deal Updates have slowed down because the staff wants to focus on making the full site screen-reader compatible. and they started running new Dragon Breed Lore thru sensitive reading

ok and if any of that has convinced you to give Flight Rising a shot some advice for starting out:

send me a friend request so it's easier for me to give you stuff ;D

fiddle around with your account settings. i highly recommend setting "Feed Style" to "Selective" because it let's you more easily control what those hungry bastards eat

i believe for new players the Which Waystone is on automatically for new players, but if it's not then check it out on the sidebar. it'll tell you basic stuff to do

check out the Dragon Customization and Activities sections of the encyclopedia for more info on how to do stuff

when gathering prioritize Hunting, Fishing, Insect Catching, and Foraging for now. you get daily bonus for keeping your dragons well fed!

use the achievements tab. not only are there some fun items to earn via it, almost all of the achievements are stuff you will just do normally while playing which helps figure out what to do! on the top right of achievement's you'll see this button

that's an extra way of earning Achievement Tokens. there are daily, weekly, and monthly tasks to complete to get more tokens. these are all smaller things done during normal gameplay and will help point you in the right direction(s)

there's a big ol' user guide for Tomo's Trivia Tablet (one of the dailies) so you can just ctrl+f that for the answers instead of having to memorize a bunch of shit

Grimmer & Gloom game guide. this is where you make money

bond with your dragon's familiars everyday to get a lil extra money, but more importantly, because they give you chests for hitting Friendship Milestones. DO NOT OPEN THE GOLD CHESTS you can sell them for about 30g in the auction house which is a much better deal than what you'd get rolling the RNG dice by opening it yourself 👌

you get one free faction change if you find you're not enjoying your flight

Roundsey is evil. do not trust her

no really, i will give you stuff. i'm rich. i'm solidly a member of the dragon upper middle class. i'll buy you stuff, give you items needed for achievements and/or to expand your lair space, send you extra food, straight up give you money for things, fully level a team of dragons so you've got some dudes to go coil grinding with. this is a longstanding open invitation to all FR mutuals

oh god this is so long. i'm sorry. uuuuh feel free to hmu if you need any pointers or i explained something poorly. i can find something written by people more knowledgeable and articulate than me

[dreadnotau]

So, what the heck's been going on with Dread Not?

First off, kind of a big announcement, the twitter is officially GONE. As "twitter" (x?) added a policy that starting from November 15th, all posts made by users would be fed to their AI algorithm, both my personal twitter as well as the Dread Not twitter are deleted, to prevent my content from being used to feed some shitty AI algorithm. Tumblr isn't exempt from this bullshit AI fad either, but at least they gave you a toggle to opt out of it. It's a low bar and yet sites keep not clearing it. Don't be afraid, though, I've downloaded the archive of the official twitter account and if the fancy strikes me (and if there's enough of a demand for it) I might mess around with the html and make a downloadable version of the Dread Not Twitter for anyone interested in having it as a remnant of that bygone era. I'd just have to find a way to scrub all my actual personal data from that account first though, lmao…

On a more serious note, you probably noticed the comic itself hasn't updated properly since, what, June? And that was only one page. Before then the last update was in September 2023, so it's been well over a year since proper, consistent content for this comic has been made. For that, I am genuinely sorry. I made a lot of false promises and with the update in June I hyped it up with being "finally back" and then held up none of what I promised. That sucks and I wish I had anyone else to blame, but it's all me and my shitty nonexistent work ethic. I COULD'VE finished Act 1 during the summer, but with the way my motivation for art works, I got swept up in other projects thinking I could make up for lost time eventually, and then just didn't. This sucks and I wish it hadn't happened, but here we are.

Moving forward is going to be difficult because of this. As mentioned, I have other projects I'm working on now, projects I'm arguably more invested in than Dread Not. If Dread Not was EASIER to make, it'd be less of a problem, but I've set up a kind of impossible standard for myself of putting my everything into every page. This makes it look phenomenal, I can't deny it, the last few pages have been some of my best work and I still look at them very fondly, but there's also an aspect of… what it is that I'm actually putting so much work into. I don't mean to diminish my own fiction here, but Dread Not was kind of made on a whim, and while it has themes I find interesting it's not as… deeply significant as some of my other work is, or at least is MEANT to be.

To use a metaphor to illustrate, Dread Not is like popcorn that I've painstakingly made a giant ornate bowl to serve it with, while my other projects are fully planned meals that I need to find a good way to serve, and if all my energy is spent trying to figure out how to make my popcorn snack presentable, what time does that leave to the Actual Full Course Meal I'm planning? I hope that metaphor makes sense, because popcorn is still good! It's tasty! You can make it really nice and spicy, but at the end of the day that's not a gourmet meal, and I'd like to try my hand at more serious (culinary) projects. Projects that require me to work not just physically, but also mentally, to explore more difficult themes that mean a lot more to me. And, don't get me wrong, Dread Not HAS interesting ideas in there, it's just that I haven't reached them yet because I've been so preoccupied with this fucking BOWL. The popcorn is cold now and I still haven't finished painting it's goddamn container. There's a reason you usually serve this stuff in a paper bag.

And, paper bag analogy is right, because if you've seen my latest art dump on my art blog, you might've seen a couple of different styles in one place. Flat colours, monochrome colours with an emphasis on shading, a general complete lack of backgrounds, etc. What I want from you, dear reader, is to tell me what YOU want from Dread not. There's no way for me to finish act 1 in a reasonable time frame without downgrading the art, so I want to know what kind of downgrade you're willing to put up with. My personal ideal would be if I could just release the remaining pages as just line-art with minimal shading, but I understand that's probably not what people want, so…

Here's a forum for you to weigh in! (I recommend filling it out after you read this whole post)

On a different note, I want to heavily stress that I'm not abandoning the project, it's just morphing into something different now. It kind of HAS to in order to survive. Originally, working on Dread Not was something I did between classes, it was my only real "organised" artistic outlet if you could call it that, but now that I'm going to school FOR art, something as demanding as a full comic is less an outlet and more a chore. Even WITH downgraded visuals, that's still time spent on something that's not getting me grades or recognition, and while it's fun I'm kind of planning on doing art as a career now, so fun projects have to be REALLY fun for me to still invest so much time into (again, refer back to how my shitass art motivation works). This is why Act 2 is now planned to be entirely text, like other fics I actually work on in my spare time as a Break from visual art. It's a continuation of Act 1 still, just as originally intended, but I'll be adjusting my original script for Act 2 to fit into the new format. I'm sorry if this is disappointing to anyone (if the visual downgrade for the end of act 1 wasn't enough), but this is the most reliable way I can get myself to actually work on Dread Not since, again, I don't think a "passion project" should be draining to think about.

All of the technical stuff about the comic/AU/fic ASIDE… I want to give a huge shoutout to everyone in the Dread Not Discord server. Despite all the hiatuses and despite all the Lack of content I've given them, the server's been decently active and we've even made stories and characters completely divorced from Dread Not or even Deltarune as a concept! It's a really nice group to be a part of and I'm eternally grateful that something I made attracted such creative and thoughtful and SKILLED people into one place to share new ideas and discuss old ones. It's just a great time all around, and I don't think I'd be where I am today if it weren't for that server, as corny and stupid as that may sound.

I'm sorry this ended up being kind of a damper of an announcement, but seeing the state this blog is in I think it's a little necessary to make a proper post addressing all the stuff that's been going on behind the scenes. I hate leaving ya'll in the dark, but I also know that these posts are really long and probably really boring so getting something like this every other week would probably be even more annoying than complete silence.

Again, thank you all for your patience and, by all means, weigh in on what you think should be done with this AU going forward.

-Kooki

PS - I'll announce my other projects when they're in a more presentable state, for now you'll have to wait for those too, sorry.

[dry-valleys]

What Angel wakes me from my flowery bed?

The second part of my Stratford upon Avon series (please see here for the rest).

This is a twofer of New Place and the Guild Chapel, Stratford upon Avon.

The Guild Chapel was built in 1269 by the Fraternity of the Holy Cross and is next to William Shakespeare’s home, New Place, and the schoolroom run by the fraternity, which educated the young Shakespeare, now a fine museum.

During the late 15th century, a legacy from local merchant, landowner, diplomat and sometime Mayor of London, Hugh Clopton, paid for much of what we see today; the tower, porch, nave and the wall paintings which would have impressed on the mostly illiterate church towers the need to repent or be doomed (9 is literally called The Doom Painting and ongoing restoration is showing how imposing it was and will be).

‘Thanks’, if you can call it that, to the Reformation, a law of 1547 suppressed the guilds, and the Guild Chapel, like most of the guild’s other assets, became property of the Stratford Town Corporation. An edict of 1559 required the ‘removal of all signs of superstition and idolatry from places of worship’ and John Shakespeare, William’s father, undertook this work five years later, the year in which William was born.

(I am not going into the debate over whether the Shakespeares were secretly loyal to the true faith, but they showed a lack of enthusiasm for the Protestant iconoclasm, and the murals were lime washed over, not destroyed, which is why they were discovered in 1804 and partly restored).

The aforementioned Hugh Clopton was the original owner of New Place, which was built in 1483. In 1563, his heir, Willam Clopton, had to sell to his tenant William Bott, who in 1567 sold to William Underhill I, and in 1597 it was bought from his son William Underhill II by William Shakespeare.

(There were a lot of Williams in those days!)

Here, Shakespeare’s surviving children Susanna and Judith were mostly raised by their mother, Anne Hathaway (whose childhood home is also a museum, which like New Place is run by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust and is highly recommended too). Sadly Judith’s twin, Hamnet, did not get to live here as he died aged 11, only a year before the move.

Upon the death of Shakespeare’s granddaughter Elizabeth Hall (daughter of Susanna and her husband John Hall), it reverted to the Clopton family; in 1702 Sir John Clopton had Shakespeare’s house demolished and a new one built.

In 1756, a new owner, Francis Gastrell, came in from Frodsham, Cheshire, and built a new house, in the process destroying an old mulberry tree said to have been planted by Shakespeare; objecting to paying his fair share in tax, he ended up knocking down his own house.

(This is not a reflection on Frodsham, a fine town which you can read about in my earlier posts, or on 18th-century houses, many of which I love, but I’m glad he buggered off and allowed us to use the garden without any of his frippery).

Following an excavation led by James Halliwell Phillips in 1864, the site was acquired by the Shakespeare Birthplace Trust in 1876; it became a museum and still serves as one.

The pioneering female gardener Ellen Willmott, who also worked at Anne Hathaway’s Cottage, sculpted this garden so well that you’d think it had been here ever since 1597, but it is a creation of hers, on what had been a ruin.

In this garden dwell statues such as (1) Greg Wyatt’s The Tempest (1999) and (2) The Greenwood Tree by Adam Barrett (2016), which is a tribute to the Forest of Arden mentioned in As You Like It*, and where you can have your own inscription made on the leaves.

*Remnants of the Forest of Arden can still be found; please see here and here for my voyages there.

In the same year, 2016, a grant of lottery money led to a restoration called ‘Death Reawakened’ so that we can see what Shakespeare’s grandparents saw before the Reformation; it still isn’t complete but there is enough to marvel at today.

Because the restoration work is ongoing, I have no doubt that more will be known by the time I come back, and until then the summer still doth tend upon my state.

[parhelios]

part two of the stargate atlantis animorphs au where john sheppard used to be tobias! this will hopefully get turned into a full fic at some point but i like telling ppl about my fic ideas its fun

an important part of this au is that at least once on atlantis people have started reminiscing about favorite foods on earth they miss and when john was asked what he missed the most, he just blinks and says "burgers" and everyone gives him shit about his basic ass answer but little do they know the real answer is fresh mouse

part one here

he never really realized just how much he missed truly flying on his own wings until he did it for the first time in too many years, circling over the spires of atlantis and relishing the feeling of thermals under his spread wings. he can’t help but chuckle as on the way to rodney’s lab later in the day, he spots some of the biologists in their lab losing their minds. he does make a note to be a little less conspicuous though. john makes another note to let chaya know that if she ever needs anything, he’s her man, for the rest of time. he’s never been more grateful for anything.

(meanwhile, rodney and less so elizabeth, have been tinhatting about john since kolya's invasion of atlantis. john was weird enough they decided they needed to investigate him more and found that large swaths of his childhood and teen years are redacted to hell and back. they can't even figure out when he was born, exactly. it's WEIRD, and the fact that not even weir has clearance makes it all the more disturbing. rodney tries his best to find an unredacted version--surely it must be somewhere in the files sent on the atlantis expedition, in case of emergency--but not even that works. the thing is, by this point, john is their friend, and though they are definitely concerned and more than a little weirded out, they trust him. they trust that if it becomes necessary, he'll trust them too.)

missions go for the most part as normal, but whenever john can get the free time, he spends it flying. eventually, ar-1 gets sent out on a recon mission to a new gate location, a supposedly uninhabited planet which they believe might serve as a potential alpha site for atlantis in case of wraith incursion

as they begin their expedition, the group moves through the brush, ears and eyes sharp for any darts or wraith patrols. they walk for some time, having chosen to head in the direction of what looks to be a plume of smoke in the sky--perhaps a sign of civilization? certainly an anomaly worth checking out. when they reach the source of it, all four come to the same conclusion. a ship has crashed here. small fires still burn in the trees and brush at the edge of the clearing from its crash landing, but for the most part it looks only superficially damaged. however, not one of them save john recognize the design, and john keeps his mouth shut.

it is an andalite blade ship, and john wonders wildly about what it could be doing so far from home as he leads rodney, teyla, and ronon towards the entrance. he's able to keep his reaction to himself pretty easily, years of having to think about his face and his words coming in very handy for deception. rodney and the rest recognize it as being like nothing they've ever seen before--an egg-like pod with a tail curving above it, ending in a sharp point facing the front of the ship, two small, stubby wings curving off of the side. rodney starts to lose it with excitement at another spacefaring race which they have not encountered before, and john has to keep his mouth shut. after the war with the yeerks, the andalites and the humans had come up with a plan to deal with the yeerks, which none of the animorphs had been privvy to, except that once they were dealt with, the andalites would return to their part of the galaxy under seerow's kindness (their prime directive) and not contact the humans again. they took ax, the one andalite who had joined the animorphs and fought alongside them for the whole war, and they took the morphing cube, and they'd said that earth could keep the animorphs and any remaining technology left behind by the andalites or yeerks on earth. what they were doing here, he had no answers for, and he knew that rodney would be inevitably disappointed when he learned that they were all major assholes who wanted nothing to do with earth and had avoided aiding them until the eleventh hour.

when they get inside, john notes no signs of the pilot, and tunes out rodney's excitement at the pilot's chair clearly designed for a quadraped, and heads straight for the console, to try and find out all he can while the team is distracted examining the ship itself. his knowledge of andalite is ingrained, still sitting in the back of his mind from when elfangor gave him his knowledge. from what he can tell, this was an experimental blade ship designed for long-range travel through z-space, featuring a prototype andalite hyperdrive, which apparently worked a little too well. after poking around some, the team determines they should get as much data as they can for themselves from the ship and head back to the gate to pass the info on to weir and return with a bigger science team to study the ship itself. john makes a private note to hold a briefing. this requires a bit of an update in clearance for everyone involved.

of course, the best laid plans of mice and men gang aft agley, and as they leave the ship they are promptly ambushed and captured by a wraith patrol.

while the rest are thrown in a cell, john is taken to the wraith queen, who interrogates him on the crashed ship and though he protests ignorance, she decides to drain him until he breaks. she seems to believe it is some new trick by the atlanteans, but john catches something she likely did not mean to slip to him. she references a prisoner, and from what little she reveals, it sounds like the andalite pilot. john refuses to give up any information to her, and so the queen decides, drained as he is, that he is best used as an example for the rest of his friends, to... encourage them to cooperate. she drains him practically to the point of death, and has him dragged back to the cell, throwing him to the dirty floor at the feet of his friends.

he can feel himself dying, as he lays in the cell, every bone screaming as his team surrounds him, and he feels tears dripping onto his face, which he knows without looking is withered and aged from the feeding. and john knows in that moment that there is one way that this will go, unless he changes. he mumbles out an apology, tells them not to worry about him, and not to freak out. and then he begins the change.

for those unaware, morphing is a process which tends to be extremely unpleasant to watch, unless the morpher is an estreen who can control the process of the morph. john is very much not an estreen, despite his deep familiarity with being a hawk, and he knows exactly what this looks like as the shift megins and he takes in the horror on the faces of rodney, teyla, and ronon. he’d seen people shift birds, and the first time he'd done it, he'd watched himself in a mirror, out of pure curiosity.

the eyes went first, turning big and yellow. you could hear the crunch and grind of bones as they shrunk and molded into each other, the mass folding into z-space and condensing as his fingers merged and feet split, limbs and body shrinking into itself. feathers began to burst from the skin, starting as strange mottled patterns on the skin before lifting themselves up. the corners of his mouth stretched up as the bones of his face shifted and the skin receded over his elongating beak, leaving yellow keratin behind.

the morph felt the same as always, but alongside the grinding of bones and the odd crushing feeling that always came with a smaller morph, john could feel the strength returning to his body the closer he got to hawk-shape. as the morph finishes, he reaches out with thought-speak to the others, trying to get them to stop freaking out as he wriggles free of his shirt and vest, ruffling his wings.

rodney immediately goes "I FUCKING KNEW IT-okay not the bird thing i did not see that one coming but SOMETHING was going on--" but john's thought-speak very quickly shuts him up, and he takes the initiative of rodney's dropped jaw to come up with a quick plan and hop out of the cell through one of the holes in the wraith netting. the wraith probably think he’s dead already, and john is happy to keep it that way—he’s got an escape to make.

[sonicenvy]

An AO3 app? -- The next installment in my AO3 posting.

I'm going to preface this by telling you that I don't entirely understand the urge or need to have an app for everything, but then again, I am closer to 30 than 20, so maybe that's the difference. Moving on.

So I've seen a lot of people saying that they wish there was an AO3 app. Presumably these people read AO3 on their phones or tablets. The thing is, there is NO AO3 app. If you see an app in the App Store or the Play Store claiming to be an AO3 app, it is fake, and you should not download it.

Say it with me kids:

"ao3 does not have an app and will not have an app."

The thing is, there's a really good reason why it will never happen. If you've been on this site (tumblr) long enough you'll either remember or have heard about the great tumblr porn ban (aka the ban on "female presenting nipples"). Believe it or not there was time where the tumblr (official) policy on adult content was "go nuts, show nuts. whatever." <-- actual quote btw.

A big reason why the tumblr porn ban ever happened was because of the tumblr app, specifically, the tumblr app for iOS. Apple decided one day that they thought that the tumblr app contained too much "sensitive content" and they banned tumblr's app from the Apple App Store, until such time as tumblr took what they believed sufficient corrective action for this "issue." Apple also believed that tumblr's app was hosting CP, which they considered a violation of their TOS.

So, in response to Apple banning them from the app store (which did not effect current users of the tumblr app, only potential new tumblr users), tumblr rolled out the adult content ban, so that they could get re-instated on the App Store. Like many other new "features" and "updates" to this site, the roll out was clunky, badly done and deeply unpopular. It was easily one of the worst changes for this site, in no small part because of how clunky it was; lots of innocuous posts were incorrectly flagged, and many bloggers found their entire blogs flagged, with little recourse in the initial wake of the ban. Critically, this event saw a great many users on tumblr leave this platform for twitter. How this affected site culture is up to debate.

Why am I telling you this? Well, as I am sure you, as an AO3 user are well aware, AO3 hosts a great deal of "adult content," of many persuasions and forms. They are explicitly against censorship of any kind. The app store is NOT against all censorship. These are two conflicting values. Since AO3 (and by extension OTW) has no interest in purging content from their site on behest of a megacorp (which btw is also why they rely on donations only and don't serve advertisements), they have no interest in developing an app, given the potential for restrictions.

Besides, AO3's website is simple, clean, and mobile responsive. Why fix something that ain't broke??

But, wait, if you're the target audience I'm hoping to reach with this post, you still want an app for AO3 on your home screen!

Never fear, my app loving youngsters! There is a way for you to create an "app" icon on your iPad or iPhone's home screen for AO3 (or any other site you like really) Apologies Android users; I don't have an Android, so I can't show you something analogous to this on Android, and don't know if they have it. Ditto on Kindle Fire.

This tutorial will use both safari and Firefox*. I won't show you Chrome (derogatory) because I don't have it and don't use it.

*Side note, switching to Firefox today is a great thing that you can do for yourself. You can easily import all of your Chrome bookmarks if that's what worries you.

In Firefox:

Step 1. Visit AO3 in the Firefox browser.

Step 2. Tap the hamburger menu in the right hand side of the top ribbon to reveal the browser and page settings and options menu, and locate the "Share" option (highlighted in blue below):

Step 3. In the "share" menu popup, locate and tap the "Add to Home Screen" option (highlighted in blue below):

Step 4. Give your new "app" (secretly just a bookmark) a title. You can leave it as the default, but I suggest shortening it so that the entirety of it shows on your home screen. You can name it whatever you want.

In Safari:

Step 1. Visit AO3 in the Safari browser.

Step 2. Tap the share icon in the right hand side of the top ribbon and scroll down until you find the "Add to Home Screen" option (highlighted in green below). Tap this option.

Step 3. In the "add to home screen" pop up, type whatever name you want in the name field (highlighted in green below). You can leave it as the default, but I suggest that you change it to something shorter so it displays in full with the icon on the home screen.

Either way, you should end up with an icon on your home screen that looks like this:

This is not an "app" BUT it is an icon on your home screen. When you tap the icon, it takes you to the home page of AO3, in whatever browser you created the bookmark in. You can move it around however you'd like, just like a real app, and put it any folder you'd like.

So that's all I have for this chat.

See you again next time I get inspired to write an ao3 chat/tutorial post for newbies!

Final note, If any of my followers have Android devices or Kindle Fire devices and want to add a photo tutorial for this on those platforms to this post, please feel free to, since I don't have any devices with either of those OSes, and thus could not do that myself.

[artistotel]

tips for traditional artists (mostly painters)

so while i primarily post doodles and such on this blog, my true passion is traditional art. :) i see a lot of tips for digital artists but rarely for traditional ones, so this is just my own experience (before anyone goes like "oP tHaT iS nOt UnIvErSaL eXpErIenCe" (i know this site well enough lol) if the advice doesnt sit well with you feel free to ignore it because i am def not an end it know it all. and nobody is because art is so broad and there is no right way to do it.

EQUIPMENT

so, first of all, in my language we have a saying "the tools dont make a master", meaning a true master could create with anything. i mean, sure, to a point, tools wont replace your ability to conceptualize art, but cmon.

equipment matters, especially when painting. i mostly work with acryllics and markers. lets talk about acryllics.

paints

its important to get at least okay quality paints. the stuff i use is not insanely expensive - croatia has limited offers, and i am poor. however, i tried paints for like 1€ from tedi and they are far inferior to goya's paints i use (3-4€ cca per 100ml. and those 100ml are going to last you a very looong time if you work on small scale paintings, and i even managed to fit in large ones).

ESPECIALLY THE WHITE PAINT. i cannot stress this enough. if youre gonna buy cheaply, buy everything cheap except for the white. make sure the white is good. it will serve as a thickener for other colours and good white can even do a good job of covering up the black paint.

brushes: get good brushes. if you paint frequently with bad brushes (like the ones i get from muller; they seem fine but ehhh im constantly changing them) you will be spending more in longer run than you would if you invested in something better. im not talking about 100€ packs made of donkey tail strands or whatever, i mean normal brushes, but look at reviews a bit. i once ordered like 10€ pack of brushes from amazon and they performed muller ones by far (and were cheaper); they left thicker paint and didnt get ruined after five uses.

markers

now see, i dont have any advice here, but i wanted to contrast it with my previous talk about how i purposefully buy good paint. well, i purposefully buy bad markers. really bad ones. because equipment often depends on what style you are after. i use flomasters, and they do what i want: and thats a cheap and trashy look.

canvases and papers

if youre gonna invest into something, invest into paints rather than canvases. you can trick a bad canvas by putting on multiple colour layers, you cant trick bad paints. but there are differences to bad and good canvases, of course. however, if youre just starting out, just go get a bad one; i take most of mine from tedi, or order online. you dont gotta spend billion of euros on them.

paper is also important. i am a painter and i bought a Leuchtturm1917 though unfit one, and was annoyed as to why everyone thought it was great. then i bought the one with specific sketchbook paper and it works fantastic. if youre painting, you need appropriate paper.

learn colour theory and some art history

yes i know this sounds boring. but its not. draw inspiration from your predecessors. there are people making oil paintings of modern things. you heard "dont shade with black" (and thats my personal mantra too) but chiaroscuro was a valid art movement. if you take a look at my own art you will most likely say: oh, thats pop art! and you would be right. i am inspired by roy lichtenstein, andy warhol, and other pop artists. but thats just the surface. my use of colour is inspired by the impressionist takes on it; i dont shade with darker colours, i shade with different ones. i shade red with blue, yellow with purple or red, and so on. if you look at the topics and subjects of my art, you will find surrealism. if you look at my approach to art itself, you might find influences of croatian naive. learn about actual philosophies behind art movements you like; you might find something for you.

ok these are just some general thoughts i had, id probably have more lol but thats it for now

[udaberriwrites]

Writting Patterns

rules: share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

Thanks for the tag, @sliebman10 ! 😊

So not counting the unrevealed works I have this:

10. Perseverance (Ace Attorney)

The walls at the doctor's office were a depressing lime green.

9. Like Sun Shining on Rain (SVSSS)

It soon becomes a ritual.

8. Like Rain Falling on Sunshine (BG3)

The dark clouds have been gathering for hours. The heavy atmosphere makes his scars itch. 

7. Shadows of Regression (Omniscient Reader)

Careful. He can’t afford to waste a word, every move must serve a purpose. 

6. The Songs Voices Never Share (Temeraire)

The ocean was beautiful and vast, as alluring as it always had been.

5. Additional Restrictions May Apply (SVSSS)

It takes nearly three months after the events in Huan Yue City for Shang Qinghua to finally manage to steal away from his dramatically increased duties and visit the planting site.

4. As Dreamers Do (D20: Misfits and Magic)

The street lamp above the court flickers eerily, but the light of the full moon is just bright enough to let him see.

3. Sacrifice (SVSSS)

Shamefully, Liu Mingyan wishes the Xiu Ya Sword had died in the LingXi Caves.

2. A Little Fall of Rain (SVSSS)

Where had the time gone?

1. After the Rain is Past (BG3)

On nights like this one, he can almost pretend.

So it seems my go to for beginning fics is a short , moody sentence... and then a paragraph of stuff. I need to warm up first 😂

No pressure tags to @mikaharuka @mikuchan @bloodred2023 @axolotlsupremacyowo @thememoryofthatday and open tag to anyone who wants to play!

[superthatguy62]

Recapping The [REDACTED]’s Plan

(Not to be confused with [REDACTED] the collaborator. At least, I assume so)

If you’ve seen my previous SoP related posts, you’ll know that I’ve gone through this before, but this is more of a step by step walkthrough of sorts.

*Spoilers for Stranger of Paradise's DLC, as well as the Dissidia series in general*.

Part 1: The Plan

Stranger of Paradise’s DLC has a meta plot regarding the machinations of a certain newborn spirit. The DLC in general has more explicit ties to another game: Dissidia Final Fantasy. While the first DLC did not offer much, the second involved Gilgamesh, who also knew of a ‘Garland’ and brings up the possibility that said ‘Garland’ was a future version of Jack, although he wasn’t entirely sure if that was the case. The third DLC features the Emperor from Final Fantasy II who is actually coming from the world of those games. However, there are other nods up to and including the title (DiFFereNT Future). And then there is the Moogle.

As revealed in the missives, the Moogle hails from the World of Conflict as seen in Dissidia. A quick recap: the World of Conflict (hereafter referred to as “World B”) was a destroyed wasteland version of the FF1 world circa the first Dissidia. Shinryu was resting there when “The State” stumbled upon it and were promptly wrecked by it. The land also contained a crystal ore that seemed to be alive. “The State” experimented on this ore and created manikins: Living crystal which took the shape of the people who approached it (more on that in a bit).

When Chaos roars out of anger at his mom being shot, he creates a space-time phenomenon that destroys the lab and sends himself, Cid and Cosmos to World B. Garland is also here, for reasons unexplained though vaguely implied to be due to the lab where this took place being the (future?) site of the Chaos Shrine. With Shinryu also nearby (more on him in a bit), the 5 entered a pact to power Chaos up enough to escape.

In the end, however, it was not meant to be. Cosmos, inspired by her pawns, sought to break the cycle, arranging for her and Chaos’ deaths. With Chaos dead, even after Cosmos returned to life, the world was unbalanced and would sink into the Void.

But then, it didn’t.

Instead, the world was reborn with two new gods, born from the will of the old. This would be the setting of Dissidia arcade, with the two gods waging war on each other in the struggle of the gods: Not only because of their tensions, but because the world itself now relied on the energy sparked from such conflict to maintain its existence.

When the Moogle speaks to Jack it continuously speaks of a future, the one that it is to return to. While it doesn’t tell Jack all the details, it recaps the details of Dissidia NT’s story mode, heavily implying that that is the future it speaks of.

The missives explain that the Moogle was born from “the will of harmony” that exists within it and serves that will in place of “the two departed gods”. While we don’t know for sure where and why it needs new gods for World B (though my personal theory is between OG and NT), the bottom line is that it sees Jack Garland and his Warrior of Light as suitable candidates.

But what does one need to do to become a god of discord (or harmony)?

Part 2: Light & Dark

The balance between Light and Dark has been a recurring trend in Final Fantasy for ages. In the Dissidia series, this commonly takes the form of Harmony and Discord, which are represented by the two gods. In the Chaos Reports (which are no longer canon, but still worth mentioning) Cid notes that it is the opposing natures of Chaos and Cosmos that keep the realm stabilized. In the game itself, Cosmos’ plan to end the cycles is to more or less kill both gods, arranging for Chaos to kill her and trusting her warriors to kill Chaos. As Cid notes in the secret ending: The balance has been distorted. Even if Cosmos has been revived, the world is doomed to be destroyed. Cosmos’ description in Theatrhythm also describes her as one of the two pillars supporting the world, the other being Chaos. Finally, a cutscene towards the end of the game has Chaos speak with Garland about a dream he had: one in which he and Cosmos jointly governed the world and he suppressed disorder. He laments that dream, finding the happiness and warmth that he noticed from the people and Cosmos cruel to one who who has lost all memory.

Dissidia NT explores the concept of the gods having to jointly rule over the world. Materia and Spiritus are inheritors to World B, which is now sustained through conflict. While the gods are initially attempting to stamp out each other (Materia in particular is gung-ho about getting rid of Spiritus), their champions help the gods to realize that Shinryu is the true threat to the world. By the end, wielding copies of their champions (more on that in a bit) the two wage war on each other to build up the world, although Materia remains determined to someday settle the score with Spiritus, an attitude that he encourages. The ambiguously canon Dissidia Opera Omnia also explores the concept of the gods acting as pillars (literally, in the case of Act 4) as well as the possibility of the Warrior of Light and Garland doing the same at the end of Act 2.

On that note, there is the matter of the Warrior of Light and Garland. In the original game, both were more or less the champions or ‘right-hands’ of their respective gods. In some ways, they are the poster children for Harmony and Discord, and since the only such god that the player can fight is the one that closely resembles Garland’s empowered form, it goes without saying that they’re the main physical representatives of their respective sides. However, the Warrior of Light and Garland themselves have never been gods. While Opera Omnia comes the closest (and indeed, I spoke about it here) it doesn’t go the whole nine yards.

Still, this could be a reason the moogle settled on a variation of the Garland it knew: Since Garland and the Warrior of Light are the embodiment of darkness and light, versions of them that have reached the seat of divinity would be excellent choices to become the pillars of the future World of Conflict. However, unlike the originals, SoP’s world did not have the necessary components required to facilitate their appearances naturally: Jack and his allies were strangers and the game puts more emphasis on the darkness and chaotic emotions created by the crystals for Jack to absorb, instead of the powers of the crystals themselves. Likewise, the Warriors of Light seem to come from another world entirely, to the point that in one timeline, Jack and his friends gave into despair and degenerated into monsters because the Warriors of Light never appeared. Even when the Warriors of Light did show up, Jack was able to easily defeat even their strongest warrior.

One of the ways the Moogle settled this was by sending Cid Tonberrini to aid Jack Garland in the Dimensional Labyrinth: The weapons dropped by Gilgamesh are shown to Cid, who either takes them and offers something else in exchange or lets Jack keep them, powering him up. Of particular note are the Ame no Murakumo and the Excalibur.

The Murakumo unlocks the true potential of Jack and company, although Cid warns them that they’ll find themselves “dangerously close to the realm of the divine”.

Meanwhile, the Excalibur is noted to be a true holy blade rather than an imitation or lesser version. While Jack can’t directly use it, Cid offers to teach Smith – the dwarven blacksmith from FF1 – how to make it, saying that the Warriors of Light will “become more powerful than you can possibly imagine”.

As for the second way...

Part 3: Divine Authority

As one of the Missives mentions, it is not enough for light and darkness to oppose each other. For Jack and his Warrior of Light to reach the seat of divinity, they themselves must be divinely anointed. To that end, the Moogle found the spirit of Bahamut – a variation of the recurring summon who was once worshiped by humanity until they overthrew and killed him – floating in the rift and sent him to Jack’s world.

Jack and the Fiends manage to win Bahamut’s favor, not only receiving boons from the Dragonking, but enacting a deal so that he will do the same for the Warriors of Light.

In Dissidia, Chaos and Cosmos were originally unique manikins: Chaos having the memories of 10+ people and Cosmos being a ‘perfect manikin’ (or at the very least, a heavily custom one) in the visage of Cid’s wife. That’s not to say Chaos wasn’t strong: He was designed as a weapon and by all accounts was an effective one, even managing to seal away the summoned beasts and Omega. But he wasn’t the god of discord just yet.

Enter Shinryu. Shinryu is the recurring superboss of the series, introduced in FFV and is generally positioned as a godly creature (its arch nemesis, Omega, being positioned as a godslayer as a result). When Cosmos, Chaos and Cid made the deal, Shinryu blessed all of them; Cid gave up his physical form and became The Great Will while Cosmos and Chaos became the gods of Harmony and Discord respectively[1].

Materia and Spiritus had no personal anointment in the traditional sense. However, supplementary material suggests that they were born of Cosmos and Chaos’ wills, and possibly inherited their godly status. That said, the ambiguously canon Opera Omnia reveals that the gods are familiar with fellow god Enna Kros, giving an indirect endorsement.

All of this provides a second reason as to why Bahamut’s boons were critical: In addition to making Jack and his Warrior of Light stronger, it is a large step in both of them becoming divine. However, Jack would come into possession of another power critical to securing the future of the world of conflict – the ability to create life.

[1] The original Dissidia’s Chaos Reports, interestingly, make no mention of Cosmos and Chaos’ souls being elevated. In fact, it implies that they were already gods when Cid made the deal.

Part 4: Pawn Take King

The third DLC for Stranger of Paradise is a stage representing Lufenia Central. Throughout the stage, purple crystals are strewn about, which summon “Manikin” versions of enemies. This continues until Jack reaches his former boss, Nil, who has her own crystals; One of which allows her to make manikins of Omega. The Moogle notes in one of the missives that it is just like how the [REDACTED] of its world “created an ore from which they could forge an approximation of life “.

This section grew beyond the scope I originally intended, so you can find the full post here. The cliffnotes version:

Manikins were created by “The State” using the crystal ore discovered in World B and are a sort of artificial lifeform. They were considered for use in warfare, but had numerous problems, chiefly that they lacked a Will. Cid of the Lufaine was summoned in order to perform experiments to get them in a more usable state. One of the fruits of this experiment was the manikin that would be named Chaos: A manikin created from the memories of 10+ subjects who boasted immense power even before he became a god. The second result from this research is Cosmos, a perfect manikin modeled after Cid’s wife as a means to control Chaos after she refused to help “the state” further. Whose memories she is derived from varies depending on the game: In the original, it is implied that she was born from Chaos’ memories while in 012, it is stated in the final reports that she is derived from the memories of Cid’s wife. Either way, she resembles her original subject, but lacks the force of will that she had.

According to Cid, the key to making a successful memory transplant is to have an unclouded mind. After “the incident”, he decided to create another manikin much as he did with Cosmos to determine if the events of everything have left his memory unclouded. His initial experiments fail and it is only after he does a partial memory transplant rather than a complete one that he manages a body that doesn’t crystallize. Even then, the resulting manikin’s will is seemingly absent. Cid decides to place him in the cycles of conflict for observation. The manikin is found by two people: Prishe, who takes an interest in the new warrior and Garland, who seems to know him quite well...

In both “The State” and Cid’s research, failures that were unable to maintain a human likeness were disposed of via the Door to the Rift. They would eventually start taking the likeness of Cosmos and Chaos’ champions. During the events of 012, Exdeath discovered the door and the manikins within. Before long, most of Chaos’ forces were using manikins as minions. The manikins were so omnipresent and dangerous was such that the climax of the “Treachery of the Gods” storyline revolved around a number of Cosmos’ forces traveling to and destroying the Door To The Rift. This culled the number of manikins to more manageable numbers, at the cost of the champions themselves dying and being removed from the cycles.

The manikins return in Dissidia NT as minions. As I currently experience NT through the free version, I have no context for the manikins’ appearance in the storyline, if there is any. While not directly related to manikins (as far as we know), It is worth mentioning that Dissidia NT ends with the champions being presented with crystals. These crystals create copies of them to fight in their stead for the gods.

The manikins are one of the more harder to explain elements of the plan. However, given that World B subsists on battle energy by the time NT rolls around, it could be a means to provide further incentive to spark conflict. It may also be a means for Jack to create champions, just like how Dissidia NT ended, although this won’t be much of an issue given the next part...

Part 5: Rift Asunder

The other crystal the Lufenians possess is the Dimensional Matrix. The Matrix (no, not that one) is a device given to the Lufenians by Shinryu their mysterious collaborator and the means through which they are able to do their dimensional shenanigans. They can reset the world, i.e. “...travel backwards in time and reconstruct the world from a chosen point in the past”. The Lufenians use this tool to retool and remodel the world as they see fit; Initially, it was to fix the collapsing balance between light and dark, but as time went on, it was largely in service of their own experiments or ensuring that none of the ‘primitive Cornelians’ had a means of reaching and befouling their ‘glorious utopia’. At the climax of the game, Jack breaks into Station 19, absconds with the Dimensional Matrix (i.e. the Dark Crystal from the original game) and uses it as part of his plan to bring about the creation of the Warriors of Light. However, that was not the only matrix.

Nil, Jack’s boss prior to him going CHAOS, sends Lufenia spiraling into ruin to obtain an improved version of the Dimensional Matrix. Unlike the model that Jack stole, this matrix allows for significant manipulation of other worlds, opening rifts and summoning – or erasing – elements of the worlds beyond them. Wanderer of the Rift focuses on Nil bending space and time to ensure that Gilgamesh or Warmech the Death Machine kills Jack. By Different Future, Nil seeks to erase Jack’s world and begin from scratch using the Dimensional Matrix. She proceeds to give Jack a demonstration by summoning Omega to deal with him.

In Dissidia, the concept of interdimensional shenanigans is key to the backstory. A team in Onrac discovers a “door to the Rift”, which links to World B and leads to them finding the ore that becomes the basis for manikins. When Cid’s Wife is shot, Chaos creates a phenomenon that sends him, Cid and Cosmos to World B. The entire point of the cycles (in 012, at least) is to reopen the way to the Door to the Rift [2]. However, Exdeath and the other villains of discord find the door and the manikins sealed within it, giving them minions to use. During the events of Treachery of the Gods, Yuna, Tifa, Kain, Vaan and Lightning manage to destroy the Door to the Rift, stopping the manikins, but also destroying any hope Cid had of escaping the world. And, of course, the gods are able to summon their champions from other worlds. The Gateways in 012 are said to work due to a combination of the Door to the Rift, the summoned’s memories and Shinryu.

Needless to say, Jack having the ability to summon people from other worlds would go a long way to facilitating another war like the one Cosmos and Chaos waged.

[2] In 012, at least. In the original, it is implied in the reports that forging Chaos into the ultimate weapon took priority in Cid’s mind

Conclusion

To sum up The Moogle’s plan and how it echoes the events of Dissidia

- Two people to embody Darkness and Light are needed. The Moogle chose the right-hand men of both the past and futures gods to provide this: Garland and the Warrior of Light. Specifically, it chose Jack Garland and his Warrior of Light.

- They must hold great power to become worthy of godhood. The Dragonking’s boons and the weapons found in the Labyrinth greatly increase their power.

- They must be anointed by a godly being. A godlike version of Bahamut bestows his blessing upon them.

- Jack must gain the Lufenians’ crystal. One such crystal allows the user to create manikins to fight on their behalf, just as how Cid’s ‘failures’ populated the world after being released from the Rift.

- The other crystal allows for greater control over other dimensions, including opening doors to other worlds; Perfect for summoning pawns to fight on your behalf.

[kiliinstinct]

Chapter 24

Rating: R Pairing: Nalu FF.Net || AO3 [Ch: 1] ||| [Prev] | [Next] Flame's Desire is Back! NaNoWriMo was a success, so I'll be starting to update TWICE a Month! Unfortunately, I can't guarantee a second update this December due to holiday stress and busy-ness, but by January 2024, you'll be getting two updates! Jan: 10th and Jan: 24th. Also, please give thanks to @phoenix-before-the-flame for being my beta and working super hard despite the stress they've been under lately.

The trail ran cold. Though it twisted haphazardly through the trees to lead Erza astray she kept track with ease. Carving her own path through the thickets as she hunted Kage. But now …

Now, there was nothing. 

What once was a clear path of tracks leading through the forest had become an empty space in a matter of minutes: No footprints,no dried specks of blood dotting leaves. Even the traps left to slow her down were gone. A dead man walking simply vanished into thin air, leaving no trace behind. 

It was infuriating. 

The search went on far longer than intended and Kage had proven to be a slippery fellow than Erza assumed. His abilities were a mystery, enshrouded in the shadows that he manipulated. It was something she refused to take lightly, but with the splatters of fresh blood that had dribbled on hanging leaves and the ground itself at the star, she felt his abilities would weaken enough to make capture simple. 

Her teeth bared in a snarl as she brought her blade down harshly on the branches in her way.

She despised being proved wrong. Yet the scene laid out before her seemed to laugh at her incompetence. 

Teeth gnashed as magic angrily swirled in her veins, slowing her pace as light engulfed her form. It seeped through her refined leather armor and linked together to reshape it to her need. The armor that once lent her strength and speed faded to nothing.When the magic faded it left in its wake the fur print of a cheetah dotting the edges  that sharpened her senses and opened the forest to her in full.

Erza turned her nose skyward and inhaled deeply, swinging her head this way and that as she recalled her draconian comrades have done in the past. She collected as many scents as possible and gained new information with her altered form. Though the buffed senses were not as strong as a Draconis’ natural abilities, she held enough pride in her own and she began her tracking anew with new observations pouring in at every second.

It wasn’t long before Erza came across a campsite and to her sharpened eyes she knew it was a recently cleared one. The romni circled the site cautiously, eyes darting over every shadow and stone in an effort to find any hint to lead her way. Instead she found the stale scents of those before that were next to useless.

Old ash and embers from a doused fire sat in the center serving as the only proof that living beings once  occupied the area. And two unrecognizable scents - no - three. Her eyes narrowed. Kage’s scent stood out among the rest, fresher and more poignant. Erza had no doubt he’d once been there, but where he went after, she was uncertain.  

No footprints were to be found. No broken twigs or disturbed earth. No left behind articles of clothing or supplies from the rush to escape. Nothing. If she hadn't known any better, the guard of the Fairies would have assumed she'd come across a camp long vacated by travelers months ago.  

Huffing, her eyes closed, stretching her senses as far as her magic could allow. He couldn't have gotten far. No matter how clear the space was now, nothing could remain this pristine if she looked hard enough. The redhead was determined to find her prey and return home as soon as possible. 

Circling the area, she branched out at each lap, holding back a mounting anger as the seconds ticked by. She tasted a familiar tang in the air that stumped her, one that shouldn’t be mixed with the muddled scents of the forest. It gave her the feeling of Natsu and Wendy, but bitter.

The smell was metallic: sharp and crisp. It sliced through the air and put her senses on alert. It was baffling, and once she'd branched far enough out, her eyes spied glints of dulled silver amidst the dirt. They spotted the earth too far apart to mean much to her, but their presence gained her interest. Like a trail of breadcrumbs, they lead further into the trees.

'I don’t recall Kage having weapons…..' She reasoned, doubt pulling her to return to the clearing, but something else toyed at the edges of her brain, beckoning her to follow.

Someone made the camp, she didn't know who, but it wasn't Kage.

Decision made, she dashed back through the undergrowth, going after the bits of metal gleaming brightly in the disturbed earth. 

'It's the only lead I have!!'

–

Kage was frustrated. Not only was his wounds exacerbated by Erza's constant chase, but now he was being ignored by a behemoth who could very well be his only ticket home. After he'd run into the one clansmen that terrified him, he'd hoped his time in these woods would take a turn for the better. But Gajeel had merely snorted at his pleas and cleared his small camp with a practiced speed that dizzied him before trudging through the thickets with barely a look behind.

It was better than being alone, he thought ruefully.  While stumbling along, Kage realized it was the opposite direction from the Forest's edge and that planted a seed of worry in him. ”... Is Master Jose still in the woods then? He’s set up his camp elsewhere, right?“

It wasn't his first time asking since they set out and he was starting to believe it wouldn't be his last.

The larger man's strides outran his own, briskly moving through the woods as if he were part of it, always aware of every twist and turn the roots at his feet would present. Despite his size and dark countenance, he blended into the shadows almost as well as Kage could when he became one with his magic. 

He wasn't surprised when he didn't answer. Deliriously, Kage thought his pace quickened instead, as if attempting to lose Kage to the dense trees, but that was ridiculous... Right?

”Seriously,“ Kage tried again, annoyance leaking into his words as a stitch began to form on his side. He felt blood trickle over his bruises as another wound opened. “Are you taking me to get help or not? If you didn't notice, I can't really make it through here on my own right now!”

That was a lie. If Erza was taken off his trail and he was given the coordinates for Jose's location, Kage was sure he could find his way. But the cost of his magic and physical health would be too drastic. The risk was too great. Banking on serving the same master was all Kage had at this point and he was desperate for it to work. 

But Gajeel seemed unperturbed, continuing his trek in stiff silence. Almost as if he'd forgotten Kage's very existence.

This was getting ridiculous.

“Are you helping me or not?!” He snapped, voice crackling through the air.

The rhythmic tramping of Gajeel’s boots came to a stomping halt. Gajeel stopped walking, his shoulders tightened, sharpening his boxy frame and he slowly tilted his head back to peer at Kage through thick strands of dark hair. A shiver crawled along Kage's spine as instincts clawed in his head to bolt, but he was pinned like an animal in place by sharp, red eyes and what he saw in them shot ice through his veins. 

No empathy. No anger. Just cold calculations as one would while observing an anthill as they pondered how best to crush it under their heel. Kage's mouth ran dry and he fought back the urge to pitifully whimper. He refused to admit the way his body trembled out of his control. 

“Y-you know what?” He sputtered, voice climbing an octave higher. Kage’s eyes darted elsewhere- anywhere- from those piercing eyes.  He forced a weak smile as anxious laughter escaped, “-nevermind, you don't have to talk! In fact, you're clearly busy doing somethin' else for Jose so how about I just go on my own and leave you be? J-just point me in the right direction and I'll-”

Gajeel snorted, lips finally curving into the barest hint of a smirk as Kage cut himself off, blinking dazedly. 

“So ya' think you can get there on your own huh?” He asked, voice full of derision. A mocking humor tinged the edges of his words. He turned with arms crossed, looking at Kage down the bridge of his nose. “In your condition? Bullshit.”

Kage flushed in shame. As much as he could fool himself into believing his abilities, the other man was not easily deluded, yet despite the imperious, disbelieving stare fixed on him, Kage still felt the alarms of danger blaring in his mind. 

He couldn't ignore it.

Clansmen or not, he needed to leave. “I-I'll take my chances,“ He stammered breathlessly, ignoring the way his voice cracked in uncontained fright. 

Intending to pick a direction and leave, Kage barely managed to turn away from Gajeel before the larger man struck like a viper. Gajeel’s fingers dug tight into Kage’s shoulder, giving him no chance to take a step before he was forcefully yanked back with a snap of his arm. Kage felt his bones rattle as he scrambled, struggling to keep his balance when he was pulled behind Gajeel again.

”What do you think you're-“ He was cut off again by a warning snarl that prickled gooseflesh atop his skin. It locked him in place alongside the sneer that twisted Gajeel's features. 

“...you’re gonna keep following if you wanna keep that head of yours attached.” The low hiss curled in the air between them. His cold words rang empty with no emotion. Kage knew it wasn’t empty words. Gajeel meant the threat and would follow through without a second thought.

It was a warning. A promise. And it sent Kage into flight mode.

He lunged against Gajeel's grip despite the burns and shock to his nerves, but his attempts at escape were futile. Gajeel’s grip was solid and unmoving; and while the shadow user desperately tried to get as far away as possible, the other’s leading movements dragged him along regardless. 

”Gajeel, come on, man,“ Kage pleaded, eyes wide as a cold sweat dripped down his forehead, ”We're both part of the Phantom Clan, you don't have to do this! Just let me go and I won't say a word about what you're doing. It- it's obviously something secret right?“

At Gajeel's silence, he assumed he'd hit the nail on the head and continued, his hurried words rising in volume after every syllable. ”Exactly! So, I'll keep quiet, you can keep doing whatever it is Jose sent you to do and then I can get home, relax and heal and everything will be-”

“Don't you ever shut up?” Gajeel snapped, grip tight enough to bruise, “Maybe I shoulda threatened to break your jaw instead. What part of this says I want to hear your dumbass whine like a baby?” 

Kage's mouth clamped shut and the other snickered, fangs glinting in the sunlight, “That's better. Piss me off anymore and you'll regret it.“ Gajeel threw Kage aside and moved along, not pausing for the shadow mage to recollect himself. Kage dragged himself up, legs shaking as gripped his shoulder tightly. The pain was becoming unbearable, but he steeled himself to amble along, engulfed in Gajeel’s shadow.

'I already regret it,' Kage thought.

This was not going how he hoped it would and in the following hour, Kage would start regretting far more than he was. 

While Erza continued her trek through the woods and Kage was dragged along behind a hulking beast of man, Lucy scrunched her nose at the room around her.

Crumpled parchments were scattered about the floor and covers surrounding Natsu's bed, all marred in horrendous spelling (‘ It’s not spelt wrong!’ He’d written, ‘You’re just not reading it right!’) that made her eyes cross, much to his amusement. The system she made to prevent Natsu from abusing his vocal chords proved to be a huge success, but the resulting mess made her second guess herself. 

Just how messy was his home usually? She recalled the dishes and knick knacks that had fallen when she first entered, but now that she had time to really look around, she realized that the chaos was far more than originally observed. The Draconis was not the most organized of roma, she surmised. 

Then again, was this really a shock? She'd set her inkwell aside once Natsu succumbed to sleep, quill still in hand and slouched against the wall, slowly slumping to rest on his side.

His current note, still slapped against his chest, was an exhausted scrawl that read, 'can't sleep yet, Lucy's sti——' only for the words to veer off track and become a mesh of lines: a clear sign he'd fallen asleep mid-sentence. Eying the particular paper brought a fond smile to her face before the rest of the room ultimately shadowed it. 

”When did he last clean?“ Her murmur broke through the silence and Natsu's only answer was a deep inhale as he slumbered. Clicking her tongue, she surveyed the damages of his unkempt home, spying empty dishes all around, piled on papers and random stones. There were some dishes she recognized from the dining hall, no doubt taken with the intent to return only to be squirreled away to his collection after every meal. 

Ignoring that, the rest of the room was full of a little bit of everything: old books that looked largely unread, a rusted dagger embedded in the wall acting as an impromptu hanger for what she hoped were clean clothes, piles of fabric scraps and scarves of every color littered most available surfaces. The glint of gold met her eyes often from the shelves-  bangles and arm bands were tangled with each other whilst the sun amulet rested atop them.  She bit back a chuckle at the remains of a target dummy with a messy scrawl of dark hair and drooping eyes tucked away in the back. The resemblance to Gray was obvious.

The hilarity of a draconian being a hoarder was not lost on her, but the longer she looked upon the chaos, the harder it was to stand it. A few more snores from Natsu was all it took for her to decide on her new project. 

If he didn't want her to clean, he shouldn't have left it messy, she figured, sliding from his bed with the barest hint of a limp. Her healing leg was far weaker than the other, but the feel of it straightening under her weight was enough to make her giddy. Her magic, a quiet thrum beneath her skin, was still distant, but its gentle warmth wrapped along her skin in a security net her old cane couldn't give. 

Cleaning with a clumsy skip to her step, Lucy first attacked the offending dishes. When they were set out to dry, she scrubbed along the wash bins and moved on to collect all remnants of fabric and clothes, separating them in piles of clean and dirty. (She coughed and scrunched her nose as a few held an offending odor within them.)  It was a slow endeavor and she took as many breaks as she needed to not to trip over his many belongings. She was all too aware that his hearing was better than most and she was determined not to startle him awake if she took a tumble.

In fact, Lucy hoped his clean room could be a nice surprise when he woke. The look on his face would make it all worth it. And if anything else, the busy work kept her distracted chasing away the guilty thoughts that lingered in the depths of her mind.

Lucy pulled aside a balled up blanket, tightly rolled up where it was stuffed behind the stand holding his sandals. She frowned as she unwrapped it, but the handle of the broom caught on the corner and pulled, unfurling the mass faster than anticipated. Her frown deepened as it unfurled  and she held back a frustrated shout as more clothes fell out in a messy heap.

She’d just finished sorting the clothes! “Natsu, we are going to have a talk about keeping a proper home….” Lucy mumbled, resigned to this new problem. She grabbed an offending coat streaked gray with ash and tugged it loose from the rest, when it too unfurled  scattering twisted twigs and leaves browned with age at her shoes.

This hidden secret almost missed her. If not for the broom, she would have never seen it.

She stared, dumbfounded, her confusion rising with every second. She figured his hoarding was bad but this was ridiculous. Keeping old plants as well? Bending to sift through the mess she grumbled. There were other things too, more clothes that were hastily balled up inside with more baubles were mixed in. But the heaps of stems burnt beyond recognition held her attention. She swept those aside to be thrown out later. 

When she came upon a cluster of burnt, dried petals and bits of twine, Lucy froze. Most crumbled to ash the moment she touched their petals, coating her fingertips, but some parts were salvageable for……whatever it is he was keeping them for. Those were tossed to the nearest table to organize later. The more she sifted through the pile, the more her palms became crusted in old ash, but the need to organize and her own curiosity motivated her. She held one of the unburnt petals to the light, watching as it filtered through the aged cracks. 

”... These… almost look like the winter flowers he picked for me,“ She mumbled, turning from her recent cleaning project to examine the old flower. Coincidence perhaps? Lucy moved to the table to rest of salvaged flowers to compare. Examining the pieces, she gnawed her lip in wonder. 

They were all the same. the same winter blooms she was given many months ago. The very same blooms that were twisted with meticulous care into the garland that hung from her doorway. But…..Lucy's brows furrowed as she looked down at the burnt remains of a ruined garland. Natsu hadn't a single one on his door. 

So then who was this for?

Lisanna perhaps? As a welcome home gift? It was around her return that these were in bloom and the soft white petals matched her hair. No…..Lucy thought, thinking back to the bright flowers and loud colors that speckled all Lisanna’s outfits. It wasn’t for her. 

Wendy then? A failed gift for his Draconian sister? But even then that didn’t match. Wendy loved dandelions and Natsu knew it too, evident from how he’d run to her with a patch to help her send a flurry of seeds into the air weeks before.

And then she realized, with eyes widening. Her face burned a bright, cherry red as another memory clicked into place:

Natsu's heavy pout as he spied Mirajane's Garland affixed on her head and the matching one above all others on her door frame. 

She dropped the evidence on the table, fingers trembling as her face grew hotter: He'd made her a garland. 

Not only that, he hoped she'd wear it. There was no other explanation. Her wild thoughts looked through the burnt edges of twine, following a story of failed attempts and frustration before he'd finally created the perfect one to place on her door frame.

Natsu snorted and whined from a snore catching in his damaged throat, startling Lucy from her errant thoughts. She spun to see his once peaceful expression twist with pain as he coughed, his sleep being disturbed far earlier than she'd hoped. Pushing the remnants aside, she scampered to the washbasin to get him water instead.

The rest of her cleaning would have to wait.

Sleep was difficult: Too difficult. And while Natsu couldn't remember dozing off, he was all too aware of the blossoming aches in his throat and back caused by his hacking. Sore muscles and wounds that were still scarring over itched and throbbed, yanking him from the rest he desperately needed. Groaning restlessly, Natsu opened his eyes to peek through his lashes feeling disoriented and sluggish

“Lucy?” He croaked, fingers gripping the quill tightly as he pushed himself upright. She should still be on rotation, he figured, why else leave her things behind? But his confused fumbling led to disappointment when he didn't see her immediately upon waking, biting back a whimper of pain as he struggled to sit up.

Had she gone, after all, then? His shoulders sagged before his senses could catch up with him.

The sounds of his small kitchenette in use as water poured into a wooden cup, the gentle scent of dried flowers and ash mixing with something he associated with the night air tickled his nose. Lucy's rushed mumbling came next and Natsu realized his error. 

Her presence was further proven by a cup of water being unceremoniously held before his face, sloshing a bit over the rim. Slender fingers slid into his hair to angle his head just right to accept the drink against his lips. Coughing again, Natsu winced as water sloshed against his nose and Lucy's quick apology eased him.

“It'll help,” She coaxed, tipping the cup against his lips again, “Wendy will probably show up on the next rotation to take care of that cough of yours, but let's soothe your throat the best we can for now, okay?”

Accepting the water was easy, swallowing was not. The way it lodged in his throat burned as his muscles flexed to force it down, but when it was all said and done, his throat felt soothed by the cool liquid and he met Lucy's worried gaze with a tiny pout.

“... sleeping sucks.” He said simply, expression doing all the work he needed to expound the statement further.

Blinking, Lucy set the now empty cup aside and giggled behind her hand. “I can only imagine, but you needed it. How are you feeling?”

A roll of the eyes was her answer and despite his exhaustion, Natsu grinned tiredly when another laugh escaped her.  He had to admit, if only to himself, that it was nice to wake up with Lucy by his side. Far nicer than an empty room and someone guarding his every move at any rate, and the knowledge he wasn't alone relaxed his restless energy.  

He must have kept his gaze on her for too long, as Lucy's amusement soon vanished, replaced by a sudden deep red that stained her face and ears.

He didn't have time to question it before she was busying herself with the blank papers that had spilled from his lap during his quick rest. She shuffled them about while muttering about getting him to write again, all the while her eyes darted wildly about, as if trying to look at everything that wasn't him.

'Why is she so weird?' He wondered, both endeared and perplexed by the action.  But as she stepped aside to grab her inkwell Natsu noted with surprise that he could see his floor, devoid of the paths he’d carefully laid out to maneuver.. 

It was clean.

Not completely - that would take more time than even he was ready to admit. It had been so long since he'd seen his own floor, the very sight of it stunned him. He'd forgotten just how brown the wood was and - he paused the thought. Almost choking again as his eyes landed on the one thing he didn't want her to see, resting in a lopsided pile atop his table.

Those damn flowers. They sat so smugly, glaringly obvious what they were originally used for. Looking back between the damning evidence and Lucy's brightly colored ears filled in the blanks. Natsu suddenly wanted to leap out the window again. Why didn’t he burn them?!

“So,“ Lucy's voice broke through his tepid thoughts, strangled through her own embarrassment while she held the ink bottle and papers out to him, reflecting her actions hours ago. (At least, he thought it was hours? It was hard to grasp the time when he couldn't track the sun after all.) ”Wanna try talking like this again?“

He looked at the papers, nose scrunching at the smell entering his nostrils. He never did like the smell of paper. Something Levy and a few others questioned his sanity for, but to him, it just smelled like rotted wood. Not the 'fresh book smell' Levy and Lisanna claimed. Something told him Lucy would share their thoughts on the matter. Shaking the random thoughts away, he considered Lucy's offer, ignoring the way his heart thudded in his chest.

Writing took too much time, he decided, while his attention turned back to the old twine and broken stems behind her. Snorting, he looked to the window, arms crossed as embarrassment took over.

”... Natsu?“ Lucy started, unsure towards his random change in demeanor, but he wasn't done, cheeks burning despite himself.

”You cleaned.“ He accused, immediately wincing at how stupid it sounds. Why did that sound like he was mad at her for it?

”Uhm, should I not have?“ She questioned, uncertainty tainting the edges of her voice. The papers rustled slightly as her arms fell.

“Nah, it's...” He croaked, wetting his lips as he tried again, “It's fine I just...”

Oh just out with it! “You... saw.  Didn't ya?“

For the first time in quite awhile, Natsu regretted opening his big, fat mouth.

Lucy squeaked, dropping the stack over his legs. Her fumbling jostled the inkwell and Natsu reflexively grasped her wrist to steady it, body heat increasing in seconds. The ink was spared from spilling more than it had and Lucy froze in place, expression meeting his own with emotions he couldn't quite put a name on.

Well, he recognized embarrassment, and apprehension? His brows knitted together at that, fingers tightening on instinct to keep her still as he studied it.

Did he... make her uncomfortable? Or was it something else? He wanted to ask, but the words wouldn't come and he doubted they'd make much sense with the way his stomach was currently trying to turn inside out. Dizzyingly, he felt as if he was riding a carriage and it wasn't the most pleasant of feelings.

Maybe he was the apprehensive one? Lucy's eyes were darting about again, flicking from his eyes, to his nose, then back up again before circling around to his hand on her and the ink held between them. 

Just when Natsu thought the awkward air was taking a turn for the ridiculous, Lucy responded to his statement with words he hadn't expected.

”I'm sorry.“ 

Head tilted, observing her as he scrunched his nose. An apology? For what? Cleaning? Distractedly, his mind wandered to her wrist, marveling at the way his hand encircled it. Had she always been this small-

Lucy clarified with an embarrassed cough, ”I didn't wear your garland. I'm sorry. I would have, if I'd known.”

Oh…

Suddenly Natsu didn't know where he was supposed to look either, but he didn't like the fact she felt the need to apologize to him. But what could he say to get that across? When words failed, actions took hold and his thumb lazily rubbed the skin on her wrist, intending to soothe her worries, but all it managed was another flip in his stomach while Lucy inhaled sharply. The inkwell almost shared the fate of the papers.

He tore his gaze from her, staring out the window as his teeth bit into his lower lip. Quick breaths rattled in his chest alongside his rapidly beating heart. It was getting harder to breathe.

“You didn't have to wear it.” He managed to mutter, voice a low whisper to avoid upsetting his damaged vocal chords. 

”... but you wanted me to, didn't you?“

Yes, he thought. His mind practically screamed it, but he shook his head wildly, stubbornly keeping that simple fact to himself. She didn't need to know. 

At some point, his grip had loosened and he became aware of his fact only when she pulled her arm away. No longer was the inkwell held before them in an offering for conversation. In fact, Natsu wasn't sure what she did with it, but he became all too aware of her snatching the papers from the blankets and hastily putting them aside. It made his mind whirl with possibilities. Was she angry? Upset? Or feeling just as weird as he was?

Gods, he hoped not, the way his stomach was churning felt like pure torture. 

”I uh,“ She stammered, choosing her words slowly even as he continued to burn a hole into his window with the force of his never ending stare, ”I couldn't help, but notice there were a lot of burnt bits... you must have tried very hard, didn't you?“

Why, of all things to notice, did she have to be that? As much as he enjoyed how smart she was, sometimes Lucy was a little too smart. This being one of those moments. He shrugged, not wanting to implicate himself further, but his own ears and neck betrayed him, blistering in heat that wasn't a fever and the pounding in his chest only worsened as he curled in on himself, trying to disappear under her knowing gaze.

This really WAS torture. 

Just when he thought his own body would combust, lighting his bed and the entire house on fire, Lucy doused his flames in an instant. He felt the change in the air first. How she leaned in to fill the spaces around him, brushing his fringe of hair from his face as soft lips pressed against his forehead.

In the actions between her leaning forward and back again Natsu swore he'd suddenly gained the powers of ice from how quick his body froze, only for the magic to melt immediately by intense heat that threatened to eat him alive.

”Thank you,“ She whispered, breathing a soft caress by the edge of his ear. For the first time in his life, Natsu suddenly knew what it was like to die, he was certain of it. 

Close. Too close. She was far too close, but the thought of her leaning out of his space struck a chord in him and he reached out once again, grasping the hand that still hovered by the edges of his hair. Lucy was warm, and her eyes gleamed with gratitude despite the embarrassed red that still stained her cheeks. Red he knew also burned on his cheeks. He wanted to memorize that look. Etch it into his memory and...

His mind came to a halt, realizing only then while their noses practically touched, that he didn't quite know what he wanted after that.

There was something, just on the edges of his awareness that he couldn't quite grasp, and Lucy seemed to dance along those edges with cheeks a soft pink and breath fanning against his face.

”I-” Natsu croaked, unsure what he wanted to actually say, but knew he had to say SOMETHING.

“Heeeeeeey Lucy,” Gray's lazy voice shattered the moment, splitting between them like an arrow as Natsu's door swung open, “It’s my time to babysit. You’re free to-”

Gray froze in the doorway as both Lucy and Natsu stared back with comically wide eyes, still inches from the other and hands tightly grasped together. 

Gray ran a hand through his hair, turning his head away from them. “This can’t keep happening to me.“

Lucy shrieked and Natsu's ears rang so loud he thought he went deaf.  

Chaos ensued as the pair flew apart from each other with flailing arms, with the wounded draconis choking on a yelp as Lucy slipped and struck the floor. Rubbing her backside, she hissed in pain. And while Gray and Natsu both attempted to assist her, only one was successful. (Natsu, repeating earlier mistakes, tripped over his own blankets and hit the floor as well with an angry groan.)

Gray ushered a slew of frantic apologies as he helped Lucy to her feet, who was currently running through the events of the last three minutes in her mind on repeat, growing increasingly agitated and redder by the second. Fortunately, the chaos of both crashing to the floor was enough to distract her as she and Gray worked together to get Natsu back to bed.

A difficult task as the hot headed Roma seemed determined to stifle Gray with a pillow, the only outlet he had for his outrage. 

Once everything was back in its place Lucy slammed the door shut behind her and Gray.  she thought her own heart was bound to burst from her chest at any given moment. 

How had that visit turned into the longest and shortest moment of her life all at once? It was all a blur, but she didn't have time to collect her thoughts or calm her panicked heart. Gray settled beside her, leaning against the wall with the infamous bell Natsu despised tucked under his arm. He tsk'ed as he plucked a pillow feather from his hair.

Flicking it aside, he glanced at Lucy with an apologetic, sheepish shrug. ”So. Guess I should have knocked, huh?“

She didn't think before snapping, “Yes, yes you should have.”

Gray cleared his throat awkwardly, jabbing a thumb back at the door.“Wanna jump back in there or-?”

With how fast her temperature rose, Lucy was certain she was blushing again, shaking her head furiously. ”No! Why would I- ... just what do you think we were doing in there to-“

It seemed, despite his early bluster, her reaction was enough to snap him out of it, arms crossing as he snorted. “So you're trying to tell me I didn't just walk in on you two -again- almost kissing and holding hands?”

“We weren't-!”

”Holding hands? Staring into each other's eyes? “

Lucy groaned, burying her head in her hands, “about to kiss!”

 I already did that part! She thought to herself, but he really didn't need to know the chaste peck she'd given Natsu. That was their business and no one else's. 

Gray's disbelief faded and he sighed, “Well, at least you're not lying like last time.”

In a wave of embarrassed anger, Lucy considered rushing back in to use Natsu's pillows to finish the job. He'd deserve more feathers in his hair at this rate!  Realizing the danger, he raised his hands defensively.

”Hey hey! I’m not gonna dig into whatever it is you two have going on so let's not get crazy here alright?  I'll drop it.“ At the sight of her relaxing, he added a quiet, “for now,“ that instantly made her glare reemerge, but he made no further statements, allowing her the chance to finally calm down.

That was too close, she realized, too close and too embarrassing, but she'd think it over later, when alone and not at risk of someone reading the emotions on her face. There were more important matters at hand anyway, such as the rotation change. How she missed the time fly by was beyond her understanding, but she deeply wished she'd been more mindful of it.

”So, watching over Natsu,“ she began once she'd regained control of her emotions, ”as long as I kept him entertained he behaved himself, but I think you should keep an eye on all exits, just in case.“

“Oh yeah?” Gray prompted, deciding it safer to let her do the talking rather than put his foot in his mouth again. 

Thinking back on when she first came in and the amount of times Natsu glanced at his window, she nodded, confident in her assumption. “He's either tried or going to try going out the window. I'm not sure which.”

“Hah,” Gray's scoff made her smile, his own grin just as confident, “I'd like to see him try. I'll freeze it over if I have to.”

“And if he tries to melt them?” 

“Then not even Wendy can put him back together when Porlyusica runs him through.” He said, grimacing.

Lucy matched his expression with a wince, thinking back towards the hermit on the hill with a chill crawling down her back. As much as she appreciated the healer's skills, she feared the consequences of anyone who got on that grouch's worse side.

“That's... a good point.”

—

The sun clung to the edges of the sky, sifting its brilliant rays through the trunks of trees in sharp hues of red and orange that blinded Kage’s tired eyes.

Were they going North? South? Were they heading to the edge of the woods? Or deeper into it? All the trees looked the same, winding and too close, shifting ever closer to him in his delirious mind.  Gajeel refused to say another word to him after their last ‘conversation’, trudging along confidently as he strung Kage along. He followed pitifully behind, confused while his body throbbed from untended wounds. The shadow user could no longer make sense of anything.

But that didn't stop him from attempting, asking at intervals just where Gajeel was leading him to. The questions were always met with a glare and a threat, and the exhaustion in Kage's bones was starting to become more mental than physical. Something pulled at the back of his mind, a warning he couldn't quite name. The further they walked, the louder it became. 

When they finally came across Gajeel's apparent destination, the sun had almost sunk beneath the trees with more dark in the sky than light. Stars already began to dot the landscape and the soft chill of spring pricked along Kage's exposed skin.

His companion was unperturbed, entering a small clearing that held all signs of a camp that had been set up far longer than the one before. Three tents aligned the border, and a dying fire, close to embers, burned at its center. 

Kage noticed the clearing narrowed further in, opening to a small gaping cave that, in its current darkness, felt like a gaping maw, waiting patiently for its next meal. 

Being shoved to his knees, Kage had the hurried thought that maybe he was that dinner, except the burly man walked around him as soon as he was seated and observed the area with a loud whistle.

“Oi Juvia! Get out here!” He barked, “It's just me.”

In that moment, Kage wondered just what sort of mission he’d got caught up in as a ghostly apparition all but materialized from the darkness. Exiting the cave was a woman with short blue curls that framed her face and eyes a pale blue and skin even paler. Kage recognized her instantly, swallowing thickly. 

When Jose sent Gajeel out, something was always bound to get violent, but to have his Water Woman sent out as well? He fought to suppress a whimper.

“You’ve found.... Oh,” Her voice was quiet, reserved. Barely a whisper over the winds rustling through the trees. She blankly stared at Kage. “I thought he was dead.”

“Nevermind that, is he here?“ 

”Who...? Oh, yes, him. Juvia will get him.“

“Don't bother. Knowing him, the bastard already knows.” Kage was beginning to feel as if he'd been forgotten about as he struggled to keep up with the conversation.  'Get who? Who’s him?' Too many questions and not enough answers and definitely not enough medical aid for him to care enough.

The ground was starting to look as comfortable as any bed, and without the threat of Erza looming over him, he had half a mind to take the unspoken invitation. He almost missed the comfort of his cell. Didn't they at least have bandages he could use on himself?

As he began to slump, Gajeel grasped the back of his neck, holding him up with an iron grip that left Kage seething through his teeth. ”Yer' gonna get an infection if you sleep on the ground like that, idiot.“

“Why do you care?!” Kage snapped, “It's not like I'm getting patched up anytime soon.”

“Shut yer yap and wait,” Gajeel said, voice darkening to a low hiss, “You'll be taken care of soon enough.”

He couldn't help, but felt the statement was more a threat than a source of comfort, but Gajeel's rough treatment went ignored. Kage grunted as Gajeel’s hand rested uncomfortably on the back of his neck. The woman nodded and shuffled about the camp, collecting a small amount of items to stuff into a pack at her side. After her third trip around the site, Kage began to realize she was preparing to leave. 

“I'll inform Jose.” She said gravely, looking Gajeel in the eye as a silent message passed between them, “don't keep Juvia waiting.”

A beat of silence. Then the gruff man nodded his head. Before Kage could grasp anything further, she slipped into the woods as quietly as she'd come and Kage gawked. 

”Shouldn't I have gone with her?” He desperately asked.

”No,“ an entirely new voice, one he didn't recognize from his clan or the fairies, spoke from the shadows of the alcove, smooth and too calm for the situation at hand. ”You're too useful to send back just yet....That's why you brought him after all, right Gajeel? To be our opening?”

The man stepped out, eyes coldly judging Kage through the mess of his short hair, the intricate red tattoo on his face etched itself into Kage's mind as recognition finally struck him.

“What the fuck!” He spat, craning his head to look at the man above him, “Why's there another celestial? What the hell's going on here?!“

Gajeel’s grip tightened around his neck, and this time he knew skin was broken. Already marred from the assault of the Fairies’ draconis, thin beads of blood broke free under the strength of Gajeel’s fingers holding fast. Tears sprung from the corners in Kage's eyes as he cried out.  Breathing was next to impossible, but his anger was close to bursting. 

“What do you mean opening?” He choked, thrashing under Gajeel’s grasp. “ Just what did Jose ask you to do?”

Gajeel’s smile split his face in a way that didn't express glee. His eyes narrowed and teeth far too sharp to be human gleamed dangerously in the low light. He waved off the other man who started to speak again, all-too gleeful to lean down and look into Kage's eyes with a devious mischief reflecting in his own. Another beast of red scales and flames flashed in Kage’s mind

”I gotta say thanks shadow-twerp,” He rasped, voice a dark chuckle, ”Here we were wondering how to get the fairies to let us in and you come barreling right into my hands. I'd say I owe you one but-“

Despite the white-hot fire of pain striking through Kage's limbs, what little magic he had left flared and the evening’s darkness rose to surround the area, sharp spikes of death springing forth instantly. 

”I see no point in settling debts with a dead man.“ His laughter rang through the clearing as Kage closed his eyes tight, willing the shadows to collapse upon them all in an instant.

”I'll take you both with me you fucking bastards!“

[slimegirlslugwife]

I’m sorry but I’m still losing my fucking MIND over elons incomprehensible Linux own the libs tweet like

Like it’s incredibly obvious he heard about a traceroute, and then googled “how to delete file in Linux” and then didn’t even read the results

Like… woke_mind_virus isn’t a fully qualified domain name, meaning it relies on a custom DNS resolution specific to his machine, or if utilizing a vpn, that specific vpn’s custom host file. Or that the American government would have a host entry for a woke mind virus, which if you’ve ever had to use a government website, is laughable. Also DNS is global for the most part, but honestly we can move on at this point.

So sure, we’ll say that the government has forced all public internet in America to resolve woke_mind_virus. Where does it resolve to? YOUR OWN COMPUTER, you silly billy! Obviously! This is *almost* comprehensible. Sure, we are all infected with the woke mind virus, why not. It must be destroyed within ourselves. Yeah man, whatever. Why not? So how do we destroy it?

Duh! Just delete it! How do we do that in our L337 uber hax0r terminal on our fresh kali live usb (because partitions are scary)? We’ll save that for last.

Because while deleting one file could make a website inoperable, it does not remove every trace of it! It first needs a configuration file in the web server, usually Apache or nginx. This is at LEAST one file, but cmon, if you’re gonna psychologically program the masses and keep it out of public view, you gotta encrypt that shit! So naturally, an SSL is in order! That’s easily 1-3 more files. woke_mind_virus can get a pass on not being fully qualified in this specific case because certs can theoretically be self signed and trusted on local networks, but he wouldn’t be able to tell you that. If you stood up a little one page html site on a web server on your own computer, and navigated to it on port 443 (https://) you would get an SSL error, even though it’s on your own machine. I feel like I’ve beaten this into the ground enough, but just understand it’s stupid.

What’s important to note here is that these BARE MINIMUM files are what routes the request from your machine to the destination site, even if it’s your own computer. If you delete the contents of the site (also called the docroot), the site still exists, and can receive and route requests to and from it, it’s just empty. You’ll probably get a 404 because there’s no actual content to serve. This woke mind princess is in another castle.

It’s also imprudent to delete these configuration files first, because that’s how you determine where the site content actually is! These files dictate what directory (folder for you windows losers) is called upon to actually serve you the content you see displayed when you open a webpage. So you need this information if you don’t want to destroy the entire file system and only want to remove the woke_mind_virus site. Cmon Elon, this is baby shit.

So of course, the strat with the most Efficiency and preserving the rest of the system (which seems to be the point of the tweet) is to find the docroot, delete the docroot, and then delete the web server config files. So how do we delete them?

And here we have it: rm -rf

The syntax is as follows:

rm -rf </path/to/file>

Even if you don’t know shit about Linux, you can probably see the problem here. It’s just so blatantly incorrect, it’s almost as if he’s never done it before.

For those that want to see a real world example, here is me creating a file called woke_mind_virus in my home directory and then trying to delete it the Elon Way: