#okay maybe now I understand the joys of creating OCs

[abisalli]

I did one of those OC challenges from instagram and it was so much fun that I did it twice lol

[biggerbetterbat]

WITH YOU [42] TERMINUS

Daryl Dixon x OC!Charlie Reed

Summary: What came after the fall. It’s time for Charlie to find herself in a new situation.

Warnings: none?

Song:

Words: 1,085

Everything was over for good now.

There was no prison. There was no family. No Rick. No Carl. No Michonne. No Glenn. No Daryl.

Charlie's emotions were a tumultuous mix of relief and dread after the prison's fall in The Walking Dead. The shattered sense of security clashed with the freedom from constant threat, leaving Charlie grappling with a new and uncertain reality. The loss of familiar faces and the upheaval of the community intensified the weight of survival in a world where trust was as fragile as the decaying structures around them. And on top of that she was stuck with a baby she couldn't even look at, a crazy little girl and her scared sister.

A scream cut through the air.

"You leaving us?" asked Mika.

"Thay maybe from the prison," Tyreese answered.

"We need you!"

"There's Charlie," he said and look at the girl that was sitting under the tree. staring somewhere away. "Charlie," Tyreese walked up to her and held her shoulders, which made her look up at him. "I'm going to help someone. Do you hear me?"

She did. But profound sense of emptiness filled her whole body, a hollow ache that echoed through every corner of her being. It was as if something essential had been extracted, leaving a void that no amount of distraction could fill. The world seemed colorless, devoid of the vibrancy it once held, and even routine actions felt mechanical, lacking the emotional resonance they once carried. Each breath was a reminder of the emptiness within, a silent plea for something meaningful to restore the purpose that had slipped away.

"Mica, tuck your shirt behind your knife, it's easier to grab," said Lizzie. "We'll be okay."

Tyreese touched Charlie's cheek with affection but also with worry. He stood up and left them.

Shortly after the man was gone, Judith began crying loudly. Lizzie and Mika immediately tried to calm her, but nothing seemed to work. Second later, Lizzie was squeezing the baby's face, her hand muffling the noise Judith was making. Charlie knew what that meant, but at the same time couldn't bring herself to do anything, so she was just watching.

The thought "it would be better if Judith was dead" echoed through her mind torn between despair and a twisted sense of relief. It was a dark moment where the burden of pain seemed unbearable, and the idea of escape from the chaos of emotions momentarily felt like a solution. Yet, beneath the harshness of the sentiment, there lingered a profound sadness, fueling the internal struggle and the yearning for some form of resolution or solace.

"Girls?" asked a similar voice, appearing from behind the bushes. "Charlie?"

She looked up. "Carol?"

Immediately, Charlie was up on her legs and with hurry approached the woman. The reunion with Carol after the prison's fall was a bittersweet blend of emotions. The joy of finding a trusted ally tempered the grief of the shattered community. The unspoken understanding of shared hardships and survival struggles created an unbreakable bond, turning the reunion into a glimmer of hope in the bleak aftermath. Yet, beneath the surface, the scars of loss and the changed dynamics of their world cast a shadow on what once was, making the embrace a poignant reminder of the challenges that lay ahead. They hugged each other and Charlie let out a sob -  the first one she held in for a very long time. Carol caressed her back in mother like gesture and started rocking their bodies. "Sweet thing, what happened?" she asked

"I couldn't safe anyone," she choked out and shook her head. "The Governor came back. There were bullets everywhere, I lost them there. There's nothing left from the prison."

"Shhh," Carol shushed and placed hands on her cheeks. "It's okay now. You're safe. Breathe," Carol said looking into her eyes. Charlie took a breath in together with her and held it for a while, trying to calm herself down.

As the man that Tyreese saved said, they started following the tracks. They were supposed to find something at the end of it, however, each step forward carried a sense of uncertainty, hinting at the possibility of safety, community, or even a new threat. In a world altered by the fall of the prison, the tracks symbolized the journey into an unpredictable future, leaving the characters to navigate a path where survival and the pursuit of hope intertwined in an ever-changing landscape. But after a short walk in the sun, Carol stopped.

"I didn't see you get out," Tyreese said.

"I wasn't there," Carol furrowed her eyebrows. "Rick came back to the prison, while I...kept looking. But I saw the end," she said. "Then I saw you, but I lost you..."

"You found us," Mika smiled.

"I knew you would," Lizzie stepped closer to Carol before passing her.

"You said you had a car," Charlie said while matching her peace. There was an idea born in her head as soon as she heard about the vehicle. "Maybe we can circle back and..."

"The Walkers and the fire..." she shook her head. "I know what you want to do, but...you can't go back to a graveyard, sweet thing," Charlie saw her small smile that was supposed to support her.

"Look," Lizzie turned all their attention towards the board.

"Sanctuary for all. Community for all," read out loud Mika. "Those who arrive survive."

Charlie looked down at the map and saw bold letters forming a word: TERMINUS.

When the sun began to hide behind the horizon and the evening approached, they decided to stop their voyage and make a camp. It was risky, but they just stopped in the middle of the tracks just in case they would lost it in case of emergency.

"It's yours," said Mica approaching Charlie who was trying to make a fire. She was spreading her arms in front of her and she was holding something almost as big as she was - it was strange she hadn't seen it before. "We kept it for you."

She looked at the girls and back at the bow in confusion. She thought she lost it forever, but the last thing after Daryl was back in her hands. The memory she will never forget. "Where did you get this?"

"We took it from the prison."

"Thank you," smiled at them with a gratitude; however, as she was holding onto the cold steel, she realized that she lost something else in exchange.

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[hekkoto]

BIG life update + ANNOUNCEMENTS!!!

Hi my little darklings <3

Here I come with this big life update and some announcements!

So first - Im feeling way better and I can say I will be truly active and post a lot <3 Im so excited!

Important thing - I drew those Patreon prints I owed some people: I will send mail in March and it will have prints for November, December, January and February [+ for March if you will still be my Patron]. Im sorry it took me eternity to catch up on those but finally I can send you those <3 Im super super grateful for your support and understanding that my health was killing me

Print for February will be sent to everyone who are my Patron before 10th of March! Plus then you also will get March one ;p

I gonna focus a lot on my YT this year, I wanna post there artistic stuff but also life vlogs and some gaming. And I will be posting speedpaints where I talk in background ;p My goal is to post 3 videos per week at some point. I also hope to maybe do weekly livestreams?

My other focus will be my Patreon, I wanna go back to posting all planned stuff :> I might do little changes to Patreon tiers but I will let you know!

Oh, about that Gorenuary challenge... Yes, I failed it ;p But I gonna draw arts for every prompt anyway ^^ Hopefully I will finish it to the end of a year hahah >XD

I have idea for some bigger projects for this year, like I wanna start making new game and work on some horror ARG :> I wanna also come back to working a lot on my universe Terroether ^^ Hopefully I will make big progress in designing/redesigning my ocs! I also hope to come back to making lil animations and animatics :>

My health still isnt perfect, also some of illnesses will be present for a rest of my life. I decided to live my life with accepting this as I cant do anything about this. So there will be days I wont do anything. My meds and doctors are super expensive, thankfully right now my parents support us a lot financially. If you wanna donate to help me go through it here is my fundraiser: https://pomagam.pl/nhg96m I will be updating it when it comes to my health

Also, great news - my parents said I dont owe them money I borrowed to upgrade my graphic card. They gave my brother money for car so Im not in debt ;p daaaaaaaaaaaamn, Im so happy about this!

Im again happy and full of motivation; I was able to escape depressive episodes [hopefully they wont be back too often {cause of borderline}] and I found joy in creating again. Im not terrified anymore if Im not good enough or what others think about me. So I hope I will be able to draw and post again regularly :>

Okay, I guess thats all for now :> I missed you a lot guys and I hope to be truly back for real this time :>

[pennyserenade]

tags: nameless female oc x javier peña, nameless female oc x javier pena, angst. rating: t ( teen ) warnings: pregnancy, mentions of birth.  word count: 2.5k+ summary: something beautiful happens in colombia   notes: i recommend listening to this while you read because this is the vibe of the chapter, i think. you’re more than welcome to listen to the english version too, but i just think the spanish one hits a little different. oh and maybe this  original gif by: @pedrc-pascal 

como flores que florecen 

scene eleven, scenes from a marriage

As the feeling of joy expands in chest and meets his eyes, Javi comes to the conclusion that it has been a very long time since he has felt happy in a momental way. It wasn’t something he was very good at measuring in the first place, after all, his happiness. Somewhere along the way though, Javier had begun to mistake being alive and feeling alive as the same thing--two sides of the same coin he tossed every day--but now as he looks at this kid of his, he gets it. He understands. It’s different, feels different.

He peels back the blanket she’s wrapped the baby in to see him better, and he squirms in her arms, displeased. He begins to whimper and she rocks him gently, smiling up at Javier. He smiles back at her, and he sees it in her eyes, how happy she is too. It’s been a long time for them both, he knows, and he wants to apologize because he knows all of it has to do with him. He has been unmistakably stupid, on top of cruel and selfish, and she’s had to endure it all-- unflinching--for the most part. She’ll never know how sorry he is for that. 

Javi holds his arms together and she hands the baby to him carefully. He lets out a soft chuckle when the baby squirms against him, in disbelief that this could be his, and he watches as his little mouth opens to let out a silent cry. Javi shushes him and mimics the same rocking motion his wife had done just moments before, and miraculously, it works. The baby stops looking so thoroughly displeased and rests against him, undisturbed once more. 

After many months of startling himself to death over the notion of being someone’s father, Javi had started to try his best to block it out completely. He had thought that if didn’t think about it, if he pushed it aside, then he could prolong it a little longer somehow. Sometimes he did a good job at it, forgetting, but he could never block it out for long, and not at all after she had confronted him about it. It was all he had thought about for the past few months. 

He was right about one thing: Nothing could have prepared him for this moment. But it wasn’t like he had thought; Javi doesn’t want to let him go. He’s so little and he has his nose, and he feels so, so light. It still feels surreal, sure, as if this is a dream, but the very fact that it feels like a dream and not the nightmare is beyond what Javi had imagined completely.  

He wishes he could’ve been there when she had him, but he’d been in Medellín and she hadn’t told him until after, when the baby was already about four hours old. She knew Javi couldn’t have made it, and she didn’t want to make him feel as though he should try, so she did it alone, as she did most things. She doesn’t hold it against him either--doesn’t even act like it hurts her. She just smiles and smiles and tells him how perfect the baby is. Doesn’t even tell him how much it had hurt, or what it felt like, or anything other than he’s everything she’s ever wanted. When Javi’s eyes meet hers, he knows that she’s being completely sincere too. He’s never loved her so much, and he’s never felt so completely unworthy of her. 

She stands close to him as he holds the baby, watchful that he props his neck up and that nothing is wrong with him, and Javi can’t help but smile at her overprotectiveness already. 

“I’m not going to drop him,” he assures, laughing lightly. “He’s okay, baby.”

“He’s so little,” she says. Her eyebrows furrow with concern, but she takes a step back from him nevertheless. “I’m sorry, it’s just been him and me for the past couple of days and I’m already so scared.”

Javi nods, and tries his best not to feel bad about that. “I know.” 

She grimaces. “Oh, Jav, I didn’t mean it like that.”

He puts on a warm smile. “Let’s forget about that, okay?” he whispers. “I know you didn’t mean it like that and I’m not going to be sad about it. I just don’t want...” he searches for words. “I just don’t want right now to go away so fast.”

She understands. “Me tampoco.” 

She returns his smile back, and they stare at each other for a moment, taking this in. 

Between them blooms once more what had brought them together in the first place: a sense of hope, and a place of respite. It’s been so long--too long--since either of them had that much, and they acknowledge this silently. 

Years have aged them; he’s got wrinkles forming around his eyes and sometimes he looks as though the youthful person in him has left completely. She’s lost some of that twinkle in her eyes, too, and subtle as they are, there’s wrinkles that form between her brows. They’ve become different people in this country. They wear time on them psychically and they show it emotionally. In this country they had started young and alone, and they will leave it together, with a new person. Even if it is all for shit, and everything he did here counts for nothing, Javier will always have this: the family he had created in this country. The person he had found here. 

They continue to smile at each other.

“We’re going to be okay,” she tells him, just to say it because she feels she must. 

Javi nods his head in agreement, before looking away and back at the baby in his arms. “Yeah, we will be,” he says, hushed. He takes him in again, and smiles softly as he yawns. 

Javi’s father had once told him that he’d never understand how much he cared about him until he had a kid of his own. He had told that to him many moons ago, before Javi had even left to train for the DEA, when it was just all pipe dreams and big words. As much as Javi doesn’t like to admit his father is right even now, holding this little boy--Julián, his name is, after an uncle his wife loved--Javi cannot deny it. Javi would do anything to keep him safe. Anything. He’d move mountains for this little boy, and he already can’t wait to see the person he will become, even though he’s just meet him as he is, four days old. All he can see is the future, which is so much more than what he can say about the past few months, when every moment felt borrowed and all he could do was stay in the present because thinking about the future made him so damn depressed. 

It’s still going to be hard, especially when he’s going to have to leave them, but at least this is something to keep him going. He’s got himself into quite the mess at work, way over his head than he ever intended to be and without the tools to correct such faulty mistakes, but here, it’s okay, just like she had assured. It’s all okay. He’ll make sure of it, make sure that nothing will ever harm this child and his wife, because they are all that matter. 

It’s taken a little over thirteen years and a plethora of errors, but as Javi stands in the living room looking at this child, he’s finally come to understand it. He just wishes he had understood it sooner, but he knows now, and all he can do is be better. 

Despite not really wanting to, Javi lays the baby down in the bassinet to his right, mindful of his neck as she had warned. Javi lingers, ensuring Julián won’t fuss or wake in his new position, and his wife goes to insist that she’ll hold him if he doesn’t want to. Javi cuts her off though, meeting her halfway. 

He cups her face in her hands and presses his lips onto hers, kissing her so softly, so gently, that every inch of her melts into him without an ounce of resistance. She gives him everything and he gives it back, just like before. It’s balanced. It’s honest. 

He rests his forehead on hers, not taking his hands away from her face just yet. She puts her own on top of his, securing them. They breathe each other in, with no rush to move on from the moment they’re sharing. They remain quiet, just being, just taking it slow. Slow, slow, slow, so unlike the fast pace of their lives usually. Colombia seems to still itself outside, as if it knows what’s happening and wants them to have this moment too. Everything is so goddamn perfect. 

“Thank you,” he tells her. “For everything. For him and marrying me and staying by me even when I don’t deserve it. I would be very little without you.” 

“That’s not true,” she whispers. “I know we’ve struggled magnificently the past year, but I have never stopped thinking of you as a good man, Jav. When I first had him, and I looked down at him, all I could think was: ‘I’m so happy this little thing is half of Javier.’ All I have ever wanted for you is to get how good I think you are, and now we have this perfect little boy who already looks so much like you, and for all the love you give him, I hope you can give yourself some of it too. I know he will inherit so much of your good—or at least I can only hope.”

He kisses her again. “Te amo,” he tells her against her lips. “I’m sorry I’ve made this past year so hard for us. For you.”

She pats his hand. “It’s going to get better,” she says, voice certain. “We’ve made it through so much already, and we’re almost there, mi amor. Just a little longer, I can feel it.” 

He hopes she’s right. He doesn’t know what life will look like after Colombia—can’t even really comprehend that—but this has made him more comfortable with the idea of something more. 

“What do you want to do, after?” he asks. “When this is all over, I’ll take you wherever.” 

She loosens herself from his embrace, taking his hands off her face, and instead wrapping herself around his torso. She rests her chin against his chest. “I don’t know,” she shrugs. “Home for a little, I suppose. Yours and then mine in California, and after, maybe México? You said your dad lives close, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, on the border. All that separates him from it is some water.”

“Yeah, then Mexico. I never got to go because my mom couldn’t and I want to meet more of my family, and yours too, if they’re down there.” 

He smiles. “I’d like that. I haven’t been since I was a kid.”

“Maybe we’ll come back here someday too, if you think you can stomach it.” 

“This place is home,” he tells her, “But I think moving away from it and resituating for a long time will do me good. Maybe we can come back when we’re old, and retire in the jungles.” 

“The jungles?” she raises an eyebrow, grinning. “I’ve always been more of a hill person myself. Do you think that Pablo's prison will still be vacant by then? From what I saw it looked nice.” 

He chuckles. “I think so. I know he’ll never be there again, at least, that’s for sure. We’ll have to remodel, though. Lots of bullet holes and narco memorabilia right now—or at least, that’s how I remember it.”

She curls her nose. “Maybe we can build something of our own by then.” 

He nods his head. “Maybe.” 

Behind him on the wall, the phone begins to ring. He looks over his shoulder and then back at her. 

“Expecting someone to call?” he asks her. She shakes her head no. “Should I answer it?” 

“Yeah,” she says. “It could be your dad or something.” 

Javi lets out a sigh. He lets go of her and picks the phone off the hook, turning around to face her as he answers with an “Hello?”

A smile tugs at the ends of his lips as he listens. He mouths to her, “It’s your mother” before he begins to speak to her in Spanish. He tells her how beautiful the baby is, and that yes, they’ll send pictures and yes, they got her package with all the baby clothes. He tells her something about her daughter still being beautiful and she can’t help but grin to herself as she peeks into the bassinet Julián rests in now. He finishes up by asking if she wants to speak to her, and then he stands by the phone, extending it in her direction. 

She climbs up the stairs and takes it from him, and they switch positions, with him by the bassinet and her turned to watch him. He’s saying something to him, the baby, but she can’t make it out as her mom speaks. 

She turns back around towards the wall and finishes up the conversation, promising all Javi had before telling her mother that she loves her. When she finishes, she sits the phone back on the hook again and she turns to watch Javi once more. 

Without saying anything, she disappears into the other room. 

Javi is too enchanted to really notice her short absence and is only drawn back down to earth when he hears the stutter of a camera lens in front of him. He smiles at her. 

“Your mom is inspiring for you, isn't she?” he jokes. 

She takes the camera away from her face. “Pick him up again,” she instructs. She ignores his comment verbally, but there’s a hint of a grin reserved for his comment pressed onto her lips, and that’s good enough for him. 

He takes him out of the bassinet again but this time, Javi finds he’s a whole let less forgiving. Julián lets him hear for the first time one of those healthy cries he had heard in the background when she had called him from the hospital. The shutter clicks and he looks up, eyebrows furrowed. 

“That’s going to be an awful photo,” he tells her. “He’s crying.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she tells him, “That’s a photo with two of my favorite people in the entire world.” She takes the baby from Javi’s arms and hands him the camera.“Nothing about that photo could ever be awful to me.” 

Nothing about this moment will ever be ugly to me, she thinks. Nothing. Even the imperfect moment when he began to cry and Javi had looked down at him, concerned, would be perfect when reflected on, she was sure. She would always remember this day fondly. 

Maybe this isn’t the marriage she had envisioned for herself thirteen years ago when they had first gotten married, but it’s the one she wants now. Time has aged them and changed so much about the trajectory of their lives, but preserved is the love she feels for Javi, and now for their child.  

This is scene eleven from a marriage, one that has a little more hope than it did before.

JAVI :  @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare​

EVERYTHING : @astroboots​ , @frannyzooey​ , @wyn-n-tonic​ , @rosiefridayrogersunday​ , @melaniermblt​ , @theorganasolo​​ , @amneris21​ , @honestly-shite​ , @over300books​ , @elegantduckturtle​, @pbeatriz​ 

SCENES : @gravegoth​​ , @sarahjkl82-blog​​ , @cmonkeepmoving​​

[space-blue]

hey! first things first, I love your writing. the way you manage to keep every single characterization consistent is just *chefs kiss* and I really like your writing style! seeing you've updated always makes me smile:)

and second, I was wondering whether it would be okay to borrow some of your arcane related ocs, (like Talia and Mek and others you mention in your stories) and write about them or include them in my stories? (crediting you as their creator of course)

Thank you so much for your appreciation! Don't mind me being weird, I don't get that many cute anons complimenting my writing. It's a real joy to see so many people enjoying the story that started as a way to heal from the gut-wrenching experience Arcane season 1 was. Gives me the feeling sometimes that I'm some kind of modern day shaman, that my early followers have all joined in order to run away from canon and benefit from this healing ritual where everything will be just a little better, just a little less like a kick in the spiritual balls.

I hope you enjoy where the story goes!

As for OCs, of course! First off, Mek isn't a real OC

He's got a model and a presence, more so than most henchmen. If you want to adopt the name Mek, you have more than my blessing, you have my benediction. Having the fandom adopt the name you made for a character is bananas levels of giddy satisfaction.

IDK who first called Dooku in Star Wars "Yan", but I bet they still feel a blissful glow whenever they read a fic with "Yan Dooku" in it (I wonder if this mighty Senpai read mine?) I'd love to be them, stumble on a fic that gives Mek the time of day. I'd cackle and preen, most likely, and give my flatmate a hard time.

If you want to depict him as I do in my fics, you're also more than welcome to! I'm not hung up on such details. I feel like being part of fandom means that we're all playing with the same toys. Since we're already using someone else's to begin with, it'd be in bad taste if I took offense when people use the ones I create!

This being said, I'm not done working with Mek, and he gets a twist reveal on his role in Silco's gang that I'm looking forward to sprinkle in a couple of different stories, but won't hit F&D for another month.

That brings me to my point : you should feel free to make them your OC too. Mek doesn't have to be Silco's oldest follower, and he doesn't have to be his spy master. That's just my take on him. You're welcome to call him Mek and make him a bruiser.

As for Talia... Again, you're welcome to make Sevika's older sis Talia, and credit would be lovely.

But she's supposed to get fleshed out in the (future, upcoming, I swear) chapters of Son of Zaun. In the meantime she's a total nobody. Maybe I can try to do an OC ask game or something to flesh her out, if that'd be interesting to you... But in general I make my OCs the same way I write :

I'm a hardcore pantser, so my creative process is very much staring at a blank Ulysses page and letting the words flow out. I write dialogue like a conversation I'm overhearing in the back of my mind. I don't like defining OCs ahead of time the same way I don't like planning or plotting. It makes me feel trapped and rigid. It makes me lose interest. Less so with OCs but... Let's say I'm not actually curious about them.

I don't have a desire of understanding them better. I get to know them when I put them in a situation in my story and they just... react a certain way. It's more like they reveal themselves.

If my writing process were a car, it would be like this :

So, basically, what I'm trying to say... Is that Talia is a nobody now, but in a week she might end up being this very detailed person, with weird hobbies and relationship to Silco, and turn out to be nothing like the OC you've made. You have to be OK with that, because as you can see above, I'm not driving the car.

Make Talia her own person! Or wait for me to make something more of her. Up to you! Either way I'm delighted to see you loving my OCs, and happy for them to be adopted.

We're all just playing on the endless sand pit of fandom. If you wanna play with my toys I'd love to gift them to you!

[captainthane]

The Apprentice Detectives

Today was supposed to be a normal day for Alex and David. They would just go to school, would have their lessons, would spend the rest of the afternoon in town and then would go back home. However, that wasn’t a normal day. As they arrived in front of the school, a group of policemen and policewomen were waiting at the entrance. They were surpervised by Undyne and David’s father, Atlas. David didn’t see him in a while. He and Alex approached him. David was nervous but he could count on Alex’s support. Before they could say a word, Molly, their best friend jumped on them. She was very energetic, even more than them. Molly was a bunny monster girl. David and Alex met her not so long after they met each other. Since that day, the trio was inseperable. 

- Hey, what’s going on?! Isn’t this policeman your dad David?! Is that Undyne?! Why are they here?! (Molly)

David sweated while Alex tried to calm Molly down.

- We don’t know. Something is surely happening. (Alex)

- Let’s ask your dad David! (Molly)

- Y...Yeah. (David)

The trio came closer to Atlas and Undyne. The detective duo noticed them. 

- Punks! Stay out of here, a bomb alert was sent to our office! We are here to investigate! No little punk is allowed inside the perimeter, understood? (Undyne)

The trio stopped moving and were shocked. Atlas looked at his son. 

- A bomb alert?! (David, Alex and Molly)

- David, please listen to Undyne. We have the situation sorted. Stay here where you are safe. (Atlas)

- I’m glad to see you too dad...(David)

Atlas sighed and put a hand on David’s shoulder. 

- I’m glad to see you David. I’m just doing my job, okay? (Atlas)

- I understand dad. (David)

- Glad to see you two are well, Molly and Alex. Please respect the instructions. (Atlas)

- Sure mister Atlas. (Alex)

- Maybe we can help you! (Molly)

- Punk, you will be helpful by listening to us! (Undyne)

Molly sighed and nodded. The trio stepped back and waited. After one hour, there was no progress in the bomb’s research. Maybe it was a hoax? A student didn’t one to pass a test and created that hoax. As she often did, Molly took the initiative. 

- Let’s just help them! We know the school better than them! We can find the bomb ourselves and then call your dad so he can defuse it! (Molly)

David and Alex weren’t sure at all about the plan. It was true they knew the school. But it wasn’t the time to take such initiative. Finding a bomb is a serious matter. Molly was of course very serious. 

- Listen guys, we just go in the school for twenty minutes. If we don’t find anything, we come back here. Deal? (Molly)

David and Alex looked at each other and took a deep breath. 

- Okay but just ten minutes then. (Alex) 

- Fair~ (Molly)

The trio entered the school sneakily. It wasn’t such a big school. Despite it, a bomb could be hidden in many places. Nevertheless, they didn’t know where to look. Until David had an idea.

- For a maximum efficiency, a bomb should have been planted there. (David)

David pointed out the kitchen and dining room. 

- How do you know? (Molly)

- My dad is a police detective. He speaks about work sometimes. (David)

- They probably already searched there already. Your dad is leading them afterall. (Alex)

- You are right. However, do you remember the little passage way between the kitchen and the stairs? I’m not sure they look there. Worth a try? (David)

- You bet! Let’s go! (Molly)

As they reached the stairs that lead to the kitchen, they found the little passage way and decided to go in there. After one minute or two, they saw a red light not so far from they were. When they came closer, their hearts began to beat faster. It was a real bomb. David didn’t waste time and called his dad with his phone. Hopefully Atlas responded right away.

- Dad! We...we found the bomb! (David)

- You did what?! Where are you?! Tell me quickly! (Atlas)

- There is a passage way between the kitchen and the stairs! You can’t miss it! (David)

- Thanks, now get out David! Get....(Atlas)

But David’s phone was taken by a stranger. They didn’t see her coming. It was a woman. Her eyes were full of hatred. Alex put himself between the stranger and David. The stranger had a gun pointing at the trio.

- W...Who are you? (Alex)

- You two are friends with that abomination?! This school is really a shame...Monsters are...monsters and nothing else! They can’t be treated as equal as humanity. I will obliterate this school. And then, I will target something else. The monsters and the humans friendly towards them will pay! (Woman)

- That’s fucking rude asshole. David and Alex are so much better than you! (Molly)

- Shut the hell up you disgusting monster! I’m going to tie you all and then get out of here. I don’t understand how the police know about the bomb...maybe a traitor in our organisation...I will deal with that later...On the ground! Now!(Woman)

She pointed the gun at Molly, Alex used that opportunity to charge her and disarm her quickly. Molly saw the opening and kicked the woman in the face. The woman was pissed off but she didn’t have time to react as she was trapped by many blue spears that appeared from the ground. Atlas and Undyne were there to the rescue. 

- It’s over punk! (Undyne)

- David, you are okay! Oh thank you! (Atlas)

Undyne handcuffed the woman as Atlas escorted the trio outside while the deminers defused the bomb. Once the situation was calmed again and the woman being transported into custody, Atlas was angry at the trio.

- That was so reckless! You three could have died! It was stupid to do that. I...(Atlas)

Undyne joined him and she smiled at the group. That was odd.

- Yet you did great little punks~ That was smart of you to think of that hidden place~ You three have potential for being future detectives~ (Undyne)

Atlas sighed and calmed himself.

- Yes. I have to admit. Good job kids. (Atlas)

Molly jumped in joy while Alex and David smiled. They were glad it was over. Because of that event, the school gave a day off to the students. Molly, David and Alex spent the rest of the day in town thinking what happened. That was very eventful. Alex and Molly really wanted to become detectives. David was happy to see his dad and being complimented by his dad.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s been soooooo long that I didn’t write about Valiant Souls :D it feels good! Molly is a new oc for Valiant Souls and she is not considered canon, just a fictional oc for VS ^^. This story is a fiction and so cannot be considered canon at all for the Valiant Souls timeline unless one of the authors say so! Please enjoy the story :D

Alex and Molly belong to me

David and Atlas belong to @superyoumna

reLive! Undyne belongs to @hammie-heart

Valiant souls belongs to @superyoumna and @hammie-heart

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Penny For Your Thoughts (II)

Pairing: Young!Sirius Black x Reader

Series Summary: Y/N Y/L/N has lived in the Potter household since she was eight years old. Even amongst the Potters, whom she knew loved her, she has never felt truly accepted, never felt like anything other than a burden. Until she went to Hogwarts. For the first time she had friends who weren’t forced to act as such, she had a family who loved her by choice. There, she met Sirius, the first and only person to ever truly understand what she was going through, to listen to her and not judge.

Chapter Warnings: Ummm not sure - maybe swearing?

A/N: And here’s part two! I hope you enjoy - here you’ll meet some of my OCs created for the series, characters who I genuinely love a lot so I hope you also like them! Please let me know what you think - especially if you’re on the taglist, hearing your comments always inspires me to keep on writing, so please do let me know. If you wish to be added to the taglist send me an ASK, replies to the parts asking to be added onto it won’t be responded to

“I told you - I have the worst sense of direction!” Y/N groaned as herself and Beatrice managed to take another wrong turn on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast.

“I thought you were exaggerating or - or being modest!” Beatrice laughed, nudging into her gently with her elbow. Y/N pulled a face at her.

“That would be rather Hufflepuff of me, wouldn’t it?” 

“Hey - this looks familiar!” Beatrice exclaimed as they turned another corner and Y/N wrinkled her nose, taking in the painting of a fruit bowl that they had stumbled across.

“B?”

“Yeah?”

“We’re back by the kitchens - we’re back where we started.”

“What’re you two doing here?” They turned to face back down the hallway where the Hufflepuff common room was located hidden behind a pile of barrels. Liane, Jessica and Eric were approaching them, grinning at their obviously lost friends.

“Waiting for you?” Y/N suggested.

“Forget the way to the Great Hall?” Eric teased.

“Maybe a little,” Y/N agreed.  The group continued on, led by Jessica who regularly looked over her shoulder as though to check that her newfound friends were still following her, worried that they may disappear.

“It’s a good thing we left so early this morning,” Beatrice commented to Y/N. “Otherwise we might not have made it to breakfast in time.”

“Why did you leave so early?” Liane asked as they entered into the Great Hall, which was already at least half full with students eating their breakfast.

“I was aware I’d get lost - B just came along for the ride.” Beatrice nodded solemnly at those words as they found themselves seats at the Hufflepuff table.

“I was under the impression that she knew what she was doing,” she admitted. “And I’m ashamed to admit that.”

“You’ve known me less than twenty four hours!” Y/N protested. “For all you know, I could have planned all of that.”

“Why would you have planned getting lost on the way to breakfast?” Beatrice asked in bewilderment.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve known you for less than twenty four hours and you expect me to spill my master plan to you,” Y/N scoffed.

Eric was watching the two girls interact, his brow scrunched together in confusion but a twinkle in his eyes that showed he was more amused than anything else.

“You’re both rather strange.” 

“Well that’s just rude,” Beatrice huffed, pouring herself some juice as Y/N picked up the water pitcher. 

“Do you think the professors will be nice?” Jessica blurted out the words, cutting off their conversation. Two spots of pink appeared on her cheeks when all four of them turned to face her. “Sorry,” she muttered, looking down at her plate. 

“You remember what Mum said, Jess,” Eric said calmly. “When she was here she loved all the teachers - she was even taught by McGonagall and Flitwick.”

“Who are they?” Beatrice frowned and quickly added: “my parents didn’t much like talking about Hogwarts,” Y/N thought she saw a hint of embarrassment in her expression and she noted how Beatrice refused to meet any of their eyes.

“McGonagall teaches transfiguration and Flitwick teaches charms,” Liane explained, buttering a piece of toast. “My parents told me that McGonagall’s a complete hard-ass though,” she added and Y/N saw Jessica’s eyes widen.

“Really?” Beatrice asked, staring at Liane.

“Yeah - really strict, apparently,” she confirmed. “Especially if you’re not in her house.”

“That’s not true,” Eric sighed, shaking his head. “The teachers aren’t allowed to favour those in their house,” he insisted but Liane shook her head defiantly.

“None of the teachers stick to that! All the heads of house are lenient towards their own students!”

“So d’ya think Sprout’ll give us a load of house points for like… breathing?” Beatrice asked and she shared an amused look with Y/N.

“Alright - laugh all you want now, we’ll see who’s right,” Liane scoffed, but there was traces of laughter in her voice.

“What do you think we’ll have today?” Jessica asked in her quiet, soft voice, her nerves about their first day seeming to override the shyness that she had shown the previous evening.

“I hope we have Potions,” Liane said eagerly, her voice completely changing from her previous tone of disbelief.

“Do you think you’ll be good at it?” Beatrice asked interestedly.

“My Dad’s fantastic at brewing potions - Mum says that he’s been waiting for me to go to Hogwarts so that he can help me learn how to properly do them myself,” Liane explained through a bite of toast.

“I heard that it was a really hard subject,” Jessica worried.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine,” Y/N mustered up as much of a reassuring smile as she could manage. “What’re you looking forward to?” Jessica didn’t reply immediately, clearly thinking carefully about the question.

 “I think I’ll enjoy herbology,” she decided, nodding her head to confirm her thought. Beside Y/N, Beatrice completely lit up in delight.

“Really? I think I will too - I used to love gardening when I was at home!” She enthused. Jessica brightened at that and it wasn’t long before the two of them were talking excitedly about what they were most looking forward to studying - both of them, apparently, having already read through the text book that had been assigned for their year.

“What about you, then?”

“Care of Magical Creatures,” Y/N’s response to Liane’s question was immediate, the words out her mouth before she had a chance even to think about them.

“But… we can’t study that yet,” Liane pointed out, raising her eyebrows and Y/N let out a sad sigh, nodding her head.

“I know - sucks, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think I’ll be taking it,” Liane admitted with a slight shiver. Y/N frowned at her, confused, and her new friend offered her an apologetic smile. “I’m not… great with animals. They make me nervous.”

“All animals?” Y/N questioned in disbelief.

“Pretty much - they don’t trust me, I think. And so I also don’t trust them. We’ve got a mutual understanding going on.”

“It’s okay, I’ll change that,” Y/N reassured her with a mischievous smile. “I’ve been told I can be rather persuasive.”

“Why does that sound like a threat?” Y/N ignored Liane’s sigh and looked over at Eric. 

“What about you?” She inquired, but Eric wasn’t listening and was instead looking at his sister and Beatrice with what was almost an expression of concern that Y/N didn’t quite understand. “Eric?”

“What, sorry?” He was snapped back into the present, trying his best to feign attentiveness as he returned to the conversation.

“What subject are you excited for?” Liane repeated, rolling her eyes a little and running a hand through her scarlet hair, pushing it away from her face.

“Well… everyone’s excited for Defence Against the Dark Arts, right?” He pointed out with a ‘duh’ expression. 

Their conversation speculating over their new classes carried them to the end of breakfast, the food disappearing from the platters in front of them, the heads of house descending from the professors table at the front of the hall all carrying piles of parchment. 

Professor Sprout was a squat woman with greying curly hair with a tattered wizards hat perched on top. Her fingernails had dirt underneath and the skin of her hands looked rough to Y/N’s eyes, presumably from the many hours she spent outside in the Greenhouses. Her eyes, despite being tired-looking, were warm and welcoming, smile lines beginning to be etched into the skin around them.

She practically beamed at Y/N and her fellow first years.

“I didn’t get to say it last night - but welcome all of you to Hufflepuff!” Her words caused quiet cheers and giggles from the first years surrounding them. A freckled boy that Y/N didn’t know the name off looked as though he was going to pass out from joy. “For anyone who doesn’t know - I’m Professor Sprout. Your head of House and also your Herbology teacher!” Jessica and Beatrice exchanged yet another excited look.

Sprout handed out the parchment, one to each student, asking each for their name, welcoming them to her house.

“And your name?”

“I’m Y/N, Professor, Y/N Y/L/N,” she smiled. Professor Sprout’s face fell just a little and she nodded, her warm eyes softening even further.

“It’s lovely to meet you - welcome to Hufflepuff,” she said, her voice more gentle than it had been when talking to the other first years.Y/N took her timetable from her, staring down at the little squares labelled with her lessons, not wanting to meet the inquiring gazes of her new friends who Y/N could tell had picked up on Sprout’s change in mood.

“Charms first,” Y/N muttered, reading the writing. “And then Herbology,” she looked at Beatrice who was watching her carefully. “Pretty ideal for you, huh?”

Beatrice cracked a smile and nodded her head.

“Alright - we should probably get going. With Y/N’s complete lack of any sense of direction at all it’ll take us a good fifteen to thirty minutes to find the classroom,” Beatrice declared, standing up and stretching her arms out, smirking at her new friend who rolled her eyes, standing up as well.

“Well Jess has a thestral’s sense of direction so I’m sure we can use her as a guide.”

“I don’t…. understand?” Jessica asked, looking at Y/N with an apprehensive expression.

“It was a compliment,” Y/N assured her as their little group of friends made their way out of the Great Hall, clutching at their timetables. Y/N’s heart was racing with nerves, though she didn’t want to admit it aloud.

They walked together to charms, speculating excitedly about what they thought the lesson could hold for them, what Flitwick had in store to teach them. 

Unsurprisingly, considering how early they had left from breakfast, they were the first ones to find the classroom and lined up outside it, Liane talking animatedly about the different charms that she had already read up about. 

“Who do we have it with, anyway?” Eric asked, leaning against the wall.

Y/N glanced down at the timetable still clutched in her hands and her heart leapt in her chest.

“The Gryffindors,” she relayed, beaming. 

“Why’re you so pleased?” Beatrice asked.

“I already know some of them!”

“You already have other friends?” Beatrice gasped in feigned offence.

“What can I say? People love me.”

“Hey Y/N,” Lily tapped Y/N on her shoulder, who whirled around to grin at her.

“Hi! How are you?” 

“Good thanks,” Lily grinned. “How was your first night?”

“It was fun! Oh!” Y/N turned back to her group of Hufflepuff friends. “This is Beatrice, Eric, Jessica and Liane.” They waved at the Gryffindor girl, whose smile seemed to become shyer with the introduction. “And this is Lily - we met on the platform yesterday and sat together on the train.”

“Nice to meet you,” Lily said, taking Beatrice’s hand.

“Who’re your friends?” Y/N whispered to Lily, looking over at the three other girls dressed in red-hooded robes that had arrived with Lily.

Lily giggled at Y/N’s lowered tone.

“That’s Marlene, next to her is Alice and then that’s Dorcas.” Lily introduced quietly, pointing at each girl in turn. Y/N nodded her head but didn’t get a chance to respond further as James’ booming voice rang out from down the corridor, where he had just turned the corner to the hallway where the charms class was located.

“Y/N! Hufflepuff! Mum called it! Have you written to tell her yet?”

Y/N let out a heavy sigh, removing herself from the company of her friends and walked towards James, who was accompanied by a group of boys - one of whom she recognised from the platform to be Frank Longbottom.

“I haven’t, no - did you write to let them know you’re in Gryffindor?” 

“As if they need the confirmation,” James scoffed. 

“Wait - what do you mean your mum called it?” Y/N’s brows furrowed together as she registered what else James had said. 

“Ages ago! When you first-” James caught himself, “when you first started to ask about the House system. She told me and Dad that she reckoned you’d be a Hufflepuff.”

“She never told me that,” Y/N frowned and James shrugged.

“Well she told me,” Y/N gave him a withering look.

“I figured,” she met Sirius’ eyes over James’ shoulder and he gave her the same cocky smirk that Y/N was beginning to realise was a near-permanent fixture for him.

“Hey,” he nodded at her.

“Gryffindor, huh?” Sirius’ smirk seemed to fall briefly, a slightly worried look on his face as he responded, though he tried to cover it with a poor substitute of his previous confidence.

“My Mum’ll be so proud.” James snickered, glancing at his new friend.

“These are our other dormmates, by the way,” James said, gesturing to the other three boys who had joined in with the conversation held by the other Hufflepuff boys who had turned up shortly after the Gryffindors. “That’s Remus, Peter and - you remember Dad talking about Frank?”

“Your dad was talking about me?” Frank asked, breaking out of the conversation to shoot a confused look at James and Y/N.

“Mine was telling us that he went to school with your Mum,” James explained cheerfully, no hint of the embarrassment that Y/N was feeling having been caught in such an odd conversation. 

“Right…” there was still an air of unsureness in Frank’s voice.

“How was your first night anyway? You doing okay?” James lowered his voice a little, clearly knowing that Y/N wouldn’t want for their classmates to overhear him checking up on her. “You sleep okay?” He added knowingly.

“It was fine, James - I’m fine, I promise,” Y/N said with a smile and gave a half shrug, glancing back to her new friends. “They all seem really lovely.”

“I’m glad,” James smiled, nudging her shoulder with his. “And last night - you didn't…?”

“No - not last night,” she confirmed. Y/N suddenly looked to Sirius, who she realised had been standing with them as they spoke, looking interested. “I snore,” was the first thing she could think of as an explanation. 

Sirius started to laugh and Y/N’s embarrassment washed over her, not that she had time to dwell on it when Beatrice grabbed her arm and tugged her towards the classroom that Professor Flitwick had just entered into.

“You’ll sit with me, right?”

They found a table together in the middle of the classroom, Y/N sliding into the chair nearest the window, Liane and Jessica sitting in the row in front of them, Eric joining a fellow Hufflepuff boy at the table beside them. It was no surprise at all to Y/N that James and his new friends took seats right at the back of the classroom.

“Who was that?” Beatrice whispered to her as Flitwick started his lecture.

“I’m trying to listen,” Y/N returned and Beatrice fell silent.

“No you’re not - you’re doodling!” Beatrice accused, her voice still too low to be heard by anyone other than Y/N.

“Relevant doodling?” Y/N offered and Beatrice gave her a withering look, not bothering to reply further than that. 

“Now it’s over to you to have a go! Remember - swish and flick!” Flitwick announced, clapping his hands cheerfully.

“Any chance you were actually paying proper attention?” Y/N asked Beatrice as Flitwick waved his wand and feathers flew across the room to land one in front of each student.

“The levitating charm,” Lily whispered from the table behind them. Y/N looked over her shoulder at the Gryffindor girl who was smiling. “You know - Wingardium Leviosa.”

“Thanks,” Y/N whispered in return. 

“But who is he?” Beatrice repeated again, the classroom filling with noise as the eager First Years began to cast their first spells. Y/N got her own out of her robes and shrugged nonchalantly.

“Just a guy I grew up with - our parents were friends.”

[possiamo-andare]

No More Divisions - Chapter One: Helping Out a Friend

JJ x Original Character

Hey everyone, this is my first ever piece of writing ever so please give your feedback really appreciated. I'm hoping to maybe do another chapter since JJ and Callie (my oc) barely get to talk in this. I just wanna set up the story first. Thanks.

MASTERLIST

~

Living on the Kooks side of OBX did have it's perks. For one, Kooks had generators. This meant that when the storm hit a week earlier, it almost went unnoticed in my house. I had slept through the storm and I slept through the generators picking back up in seconds after the lights went out. A generator, which most Pogues went without, was not even a luxury where I lived. Another thing that I didn't see as a luxury but actually was is the air conditioner. I was deeply unaware of the Pogues situation when it came to sleepless nights because of the ghastly heat. I never knew what it felt like to not be able to sleep because you felt as if your body was on fire. I even slept with blankets on because the air conditioner was making me cold.

Although I had these luxuries growing up, I had one thing money couldnt buy; true friends and real life experiences.

Since my family was wealthy, I had never needed a job. I soon came to realize that if I was ever going to learn about discipline or build on a work ethic, I was gonna need to get a job. I knew Mr. Heyward needed an assistant since his son Pope had recently become unreliable during this summer so I applied for the position and got it the same day I applied. I actually loved working for Mr. Heyward. Although a bit standoffish at first, he is a complete marshmellow once you get to know him. The other thing I got to know was how much he loved Pope. Mr. Heyward suffered greatly to provide his son with the skills he needed to get a scholarship. While we worked, he told me of his sacrifices as a father but also as a person with dreams. I told him that one day his dreams would come true and Pope would help him. For someone who's father rarely shows any semblance of interest in them, it was so touching to see Mr. Heyward talk about his love for his son.

As for the friends, I couldn't make friends at the academy and I knew it was for one reason; surfing. I had been obsessed with surfing since I watched the movie Soul Surfer when I was a kid and had been eager to hit the waves ever since. With lots of lessons paid for by my parents, I was a natural now and spent most of my free time surfing. Many of the Kooks at my school could care less about surfing and more about material things so I got along with virtually no one at school.

That is, until I met Rafe. Rafe was in my science class and very polite to me when we first met. He was the first person to talk to me as if I hadn't just came to OBX from outer space and I actually enjoyed our conversations together. Eventually, after many conversations in science, he invited me to sit with him at lunch. This is where I met Sarah, my now best friend. Sarah and I quickly became thick as thieves; Sarah and I's love for the environment what was initially brought us together but not long after we met we began talking about everything. And eventually, I told her about my crush on Rafe. And she told me his crush on me.

Rafe and I dated for 6 months, which is long when you're 16 and never had a boyfriend before. This was the old Rafe. The one before he graduated and started changing. Before he started sniffing crack and hanging out with drug dealers. We had been having problems towards the end of our relationship, right after he graduated, and I was naive to believe that maybe it was my fault. When I saw him snort crack for the first time at a party, I knew for sure that it was him and not me. I broke up with him that night.

I didn't tell Sarah about the drugs. I wish I did but it never felt like the right time and although I was getting over Rafe, I still felt obligated to hold onto this secret for him.

Sarah and I continued to be friends and we were the closest we'd ever been. Until she met John B. I had nothing against Pogues but Sarah had been with Johm B. for most of the summer on a wild goose chase that turned into a summer romance, and I was getting tired of being the third wheel. For too long I had been cast aside and stood up. Whenever we'd make plans, it was always another lame lie from Sarah. First it was that John B. and Sarah needed to get onto the ferry to read the archives, then John B., his Pogue friends and Sarah needed to sneak into a house to find hidden treasure. I knew that all of her stories were too preposterous and that there was no way in hell that any of these stories were true.

That is, until the night Sarah called me from her house.

It was 8pm when she had called me and I was just catching up a show I was watching. When I looked at the caller ID, and I saw Sarah's name, I almost didn't want to pick up. She had neglected me so far this summer I almost felt as if I should teach her a lesson. This mentality didn't last long because I had already accepted the phone call before I could talk myself out of it.

"Hey." I stated bluntly, secretly hoping Sarah was calling to apologize for lying and blowing me off for the beginning of the summer.

"Hey Callie, I need your help."

"Really? You need my help -" I was about to go in on her for ignoring me and lying but then I heard her cries and I stopped.

"I'm sorry, but I really need you right now."

So Sarah explained everything. Most of what she had told me was the actual truth and not a lie like I thought. They had found the $400 million in gold and before they could retrieve it, John B. had tried to kill her father on a boat. He had come to her and tried to tell her that her father was lying but she was so upset and confused she couldn't hear it at the time. Now, two hours later, Sarah was starting to have her suspicions and needed my help.

"Well, what do you need my help for?"

"You're helping Mr. Heyward with the landing strip tomorrow right?"

"Yeah, we're supposed to make it longer because the plane is heavier." I answered, confused on what this had to do with John B or her father.

Sarah gasped. "Of course... heavier."

"Sarah, what's wrong?" I couldn't understand how the plane tied into all of this.

"Callie, I need you to get to John B. tomorrow. I'm supposed to get on that plane tomorrow but I can't. I need you to get to John B. and tell him where I am and I need you to stall the plane from taking off." Sarah spoke quickly and quietly, almost scared that someone could hear her.

"Okay, I'll find John B. and stall the plane. But Sarah, what's on the plane that's making it heavier. I got to know?" I'm almost one hundred percent sure I already know the answer.

"I think you know Callie. Bye."

And I did know. Sarah's dad got his hands on the gold.

~

When I finally got to the land strip the next morning, everything was in order and ready to go. We only had to wait for Sarah and Ward Cameron, her father. I tried to think of ways to stall the best I could. Mr. Heyward entrusted me and was long gone by the time I arrived. At least he wouldn't be here to see all the mischief I would create.

As I watched the dozens of men starting to transfer the gold onto the plane, I stared off into the distance and planned. As I stared off, something caught my eye. A hundred yards away, behind a fence and trees was a wagon with four passengers. One had binoculars on, watching me. Or more specifically, the plane getting loaded on. I recognized the wagon immediately as John B.'s and dropped my clipboard and ran to him.

I remembered Sarah's words. I knew this was my chance to help her and be the friend I knew I could be. She had told me this was between life and death and the way she said it made me believe it.

As I got closer to John B., his friends and the fence, I could see them start panicking and back away from the fence. The last thing I wanted was for them to get nervous and drove away so I decided to shout at John B and his friends.

"Hey! John B.!" I looked at John B.'s friends. I noticed a girl from my school. "Kiara!" Then I looked again and noticed Pope Heyward, my boss's son. I then looked one more time and saw a blond boy I didnt know the name of. He was the only one not backing away. It was almost as if he knew me but I didn't know him.

As soon as I said their names, they stopped and watched me approach the fence. Once I reached the fence, John B. spoke first, mostly because I could see he recognized me and didn't see me as a threat.

"Callie!" He smiled and waved, walking closer to the fence. "Where's Sarah?"

"She's coming here. Ward is putting her on a plane with the gold and they're leaving today." I panted, trying to catch my breath from running all the way here.

"I knew it!" Pope was gleaming with joy.

John B.'s face wasn't as happy. "We have to make sure she doesn't get on that plane."

"I don't know how to stop it." I shrugged my shoulders and then looked again at everyone. "Any ideas?"

Kiara gasped and pointed to something behind me. "We don't have much time to think. Sarah's here."

I turned and saw Sarah getting out of her dad's car. She had a short conversation with him then walked off towards one of the men loading the gold onto the plane. Before I had time to react, her father was pulling her onto the plane as she screamed for help.

"Back away from the fence!" John B. screamed as he ran back into his car and started it.

I did as I was told and watched as John B. put his car in reverse and then drive forward as fast as he could into the fence. I was surprised when he knocked it down in one blow, but then again I wasn't so surprised. John B. was very determined.

I turned to Kiara, Pope, and the blonde haired boy who, on closer inspection, I determined had to be the hottest guy I've ever seen. He had a chiseled jaw and two slits for eyes. He seemed in a perpetual state of his eyes being in slits that I thought either he needed sunglasses or he was upset too much. He was watching me watch him and before anything could get too uncomfortable, Kiara spoke up.

"Sarah told us about you."

"Really?" I was so surprised. There was this little, annoying voice in my head that told me that Sarah might've been embarrassed of me. Sometimes I could be embarrassing.

"Yeah. She said how amazing you are, just that you couldn't believe her at first."

I smiled awkwardly. "This is all just very hard to believe."

"Sarah!" I heard a scream from behind me and I whipped my head around.

Now, John B. Had his car in front of the plane, blocking it from leaving the strip. He was trying to get Sarah out of the plane but Ward had gotten out first and was yelling at John B. and pushing him. Sarah had then emerged from the plane and was trying to calm both of them down. Before anything could get too physical, police sirens were heard from a distance and I looked back to Kiara, Pope and the blonde haired boy.

"I got a scholarship..." Pope said as he looked to where the sirens were coming from.

"I just posted bail." The blonde haired boy said, chuckling to himself.

Kiara looked to me. "Go help John B. and Sarah. John B. knows were to find us after. I'll get these guys outta here."

I nodded and gave each person a little salute before running off, heading into the dragon's den. As I got closer, the screaming got louder and before I knew it, I was in the middle of a fight I had no place being in.

"Callie?" Ward said to me, surprised to see me here even though he knew I worked for Mr. Heyward.

I ignored Ward right now. Mostly because I was mad at him. If all of what Sarah has told me she thinks is true, Ward is a terrible human being. Now I know where Rafe gets it from.

"Sarah, are you ok?" I asked, touching her should.

She smiles and nods at me. "Thanks so much. I love you." She grabs my hand and squeezes onto it. I squeeze back.

John B. was too into yelling at Ward right now that he didn't acknowledge me. I didn't blame him though. If anything, this was very normal way to react when knowing the information John B. did.

"You're gonna pay for what you did!" John B. yelled again, stepping in front of Sarah and I too protect us. Even in time like this, John B. was selfless. I regret not getting to know him better.

"You hear that? Those sirens are coming for you John B.!" Ward yelled back, turning around to point at the Sheriff's car driving to a stop behind Ward.

As the Sheriff gets out of the car, Ward calls out to her and starts pointing fingers at John B. "That's him, Sheriff. He almost tried to kill us!"

"That's not true!" I yelled, now getting angry with Ward. What makes him think he's charismatic enough to lie when there are witnesses here?

"Callie..." The Sheriff calmly raised her hand at me to silence me. "I know who the culprit is."

She raised her gun in the air and pointed it at Ward. "Ward Cameron, raise your hands in the air. You're being arrested for the murder of Big John Routledge."

Sarah and I gasped. Although we all had our theories, seeing this all unfold in front of us was another level of surreal. I grasped onto Sarah's hand tighter as she cried into my shoulder and as John B. looked to us for the first time. I could tell he was holding back tears. I could not imagine what he was going through. After all this time...

"Get on your knees," The Sheriff warned and Ward did as she demanded, slowly turning around and kneeling in front of us.

I couldn't believe I had slept in the same house as a murderer. I tried to count the number of times I had a sleepover at Sarah's in the last year. It was too many too count. And the whole time, something sinister was happening through the cracks of the walls.

I was almost she glad to see something so traumatizing for Sarah happen because at least a murderer was getting put away for good. I was so wrapped up in how Sarah, John B., and myself felt that I didn't notice, as the Sheriff was reading Ward's Miranda Rights, he had turned around and tried to over power the Sheriff. Before anyone had time to react quickly enough, a gunshot was fired from the Sheriff's gun.

I had closed my eyes after the shot was fired and I imagined Ward's body dropping to the ground. I felt the gravel shake as a body fell to the ground but when I heard John B. gasp, I had a sickening fear it wasn't Ward's body that was falling.

When I opened my eyes, my suspicions were proven to be right. In front of us lay the Sheriff's slowly dying body, a bullet wound from her chest bleeding out onto the landing strip. Sarah was screaming and John B rushed to apply pressure to the Sheriff's wound. I, on the other hand, could only cry.

I cried because of the Sheriff's wound and of the death of John B.'s father and how Ward, a man I trusted and looked up to, killed him. But I cried mostly because it wasn't Ward holding the gun. Ward hadn't shot the Sheriff. The guy standing in front of me did.

Rafe, sweaty and eyes bubbling over with tears, was holding the gun that shot the Sheriff.

[dutten-does-the-fanfic]

Obviously you don’t have to say anything if you don’t feel motivated or don’t want to write but i was wondering if you had any big plans for the future- both personal/original projects and fan fictions. Love ur writing! Again, plz i mean not to pressure you just genuinely curious

Hello! And thank you, that’s so sweet of you :3 I don’t remember if I’ve said this (I’m pretty sure I have??) but I’m currently in uni, and course-load and exams have practically made it their mission to kick my ass at every possible moment, which is why there are these long breaks where I’m just, completely inactive (and I hate it, but I haven’t unlocked enough levels of adult to figure out how to healthily balance my work life and personal life - maybe in a few years ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

But I am still writing!! (or, am going to be when I get a moment to breathe) Definitely motivated and interested and keeping at it!! :D

As for projects, oh boy. What haven’t I got going on (loads, is the answer, but to go over a few!)

I don’t really have any original projects - I’ve never really liked creating oc’s for some reason? I much prefer having the characters from a show/book/whatever and working off of them for the story/plot whilst still keeping some of the character we all fell in love with intact - I don’t know. I really love making small comments about the OG platform (quotes, moments, mentions, really anything, just small easter eggs for myself and whoever reads the story) that I obvs wouldn’t be able to make with my own OG content xD Everything would be canon then.

As for fanfiction! So much!! Absolutely none of it is finished, because I have zero patience or sense of delayed gratification when it comes to posting - I just want it all out at once and to read everyone’s comments at once xD

I’ve got stories going for a few different fandoms and ideas just written down in my ever-growing ideas-doc for even more! I think I’m going to correctly assume you might be here for the SKAM fics, tho ;p

Basically, I’m horrible with understanding what is and isn’t a spoiler because I know the twists and turns so I just take it all for granted - however, when I actively try to describe a fic without spoilers, they end up sounding genuinely dull xD But I’ll do my best without giving too much away!

I’ve basically got so many stories going at once that I genuinely have no idea how many there are as I always forget some, so here are a selected few!

Obvs, there’s Even’s POV for “Something Great” (aka “that fic” aka my twitter legacy) which is nowhere near done. I’m really loving what I have got down, though! As far as I remember, I’m about 8k in, but I’m shooting for 30-40k, so no time frame. In case you didn’t know, I’ve done an entire announcement post where there are also a few previews included :D

Then there’s a pretty much crack fic with some angst and a way for me to memorize my course work that actually isn’t too far from being finished, but... it needs some work. It’s basically one of those “heeey, you’re pretty much my best friend and I don’t have unrequited feelings for you at all (lies), so it’s totally okay that we pretend to hook up to get back at our roommate who keeps sexciling us only for it to turn real” kind of AU.

Then there’s the other crack fic from boy squad’s POV (well, Jonas, but they practically serve as one entity) about them being oblivious to Evak until one day Isak announces #Evak is real, but they’re just so sure they would have noticed something, so they think Isak and Even are pranking them, so they set out expose them. A+ content, if I have to say so myself.

Next there’s my newest pride and joy that I’ve currently got sitting somewhere between 50-60k with no end in sight. I love this story, I cannot being to describe just how much I love this story. There is so much to this story, and I don’t want to give anything away :’( Basically, Isak has quite serious trauma from something that happened in his childhood, and it’s set during his second year in high school - he’s living in the Kollektiv (with four rooms, ‘cause I aint sending Noora to London), and he’s got the boy squad, Eva and Jonas are still dating so the girl squad also make a lot of appearances. And it’s basically just this major character exploration of the different ways Isak’s trauma appears, how it impacts the way he interacts with other people, the way he sees the world and other people, how he basically doesn’t deal with the trauma and how severely it affects him. And then there’s this entire thing about the sudden suicide of a famous Norwegian pianist (not one of the major characters, I ain’t about that life) that somehow ties into everything and everything turns very shady.

That barely covers the actual story and I’m pretty sure it sounds so jumbled up, but I literally can’t figure out how to describe it without spoilers.

Then we’ve got another angst-galore! A traveling AU! Which, timing, I know. We’ll ignore that. With my pace, it won’t be ready until traveling is allowed again anyway ^__^’ It plays on the themes of lost and found, and it’s basically about how Even travels to find out who he is, but he ends up finding Isak instead, running into him in different cities and countries, and they fall in love, but Isak is traveling to lose himself and everyone - ah. Angst-galore indeed.

What else - there’s a snakesak ABO!AU, because I’ve never written either, and for some reason, I must’ve apparently felt the need to put the two together. ABO is the kind of AU that pretty much everyone holds different opinions on - it’s not a tag I filter out, but it pretty much differs from story to story how much I like it. All I know is, when it is done well, it is done well.

I know there are more, because there are always more. I’ve definitely got so many ideas that I haven’t gotten anything down more than the premise: There’s a murder mystery AU, because I’ve wanted to do one pretty much since I wrote the first chapter for Beat the Record (you know, back when it was still just supposed to be a oneshot xD) and now I’ve finally got a basic storyline for it! Featuring detective Even who has been demoted to a permanent deskjob and basically only kept on out of pity after screwing up evidence? an assignment? plans still pending. Not accepting this, he sets out to catch the new serial killer with the help of newly hired forensic scientist Isak, whom he asks for help because of how talented Isak is, not because Even has a big-ass crush on him. Then there’s the university AU that’s basically a rom/com where Even is one of the hosts for the uni’s radio station, sees pretty boy Isak generally being a mess, falls instantly in love and keeps talking about “the cute boy” on the radio, asking if anyone knows his name and if they can get him his number. Isak only finds out about it because Magnus is a listener and accidentally figures it out.

And so many more. Literally. We are talking pages upon pages, let alone some quite long stories I also have going for other fandoms. I seriously can’t wait - I just need to get myself writing xD

I hope this helps tide over the long waiting period a little :) xx <3

[bangchanshehe]

The Orphanage pt. 10

Growing up in an orphanage was hard, but when three men kidnap you as collateral, you find out that your life prior to being trapped in a house with twelve men was a piece of cake. Your loved ones were more corrupt than you thought and your enemies are closer than ever.    

 OT12 X OC (INCOMPLETE) 

word count 2.6k

You ate your cake with suho in bed as the two of you shared awkward post orgasm conversation with each other. You didn’t know exactly what the sex meant, if it was just something casual for him since he had mentioned not liking you cuddling with the other men, or if it was just a means of bluffing in order to fulfill a need. You had thought about asking him more questions but decided against it and instead decided to come up with an escape route.

You looked around the bed and thought of anything that you could do. The kitchen was already cleaned, the boys had eaten. CHANYEOL! You immediately remembered and your eyes flew open wide with joy. You took the last bite of your cake and held onto your plate firmly.

“So uh, I’m going to go wash my plate and call it a night.” You said to Suho thinking that it sounded logical enough for him

He looked up to you from his plate with a mouthful of chocolate cake. He put his plate down and swallowed quickly “Just leave the plate and sleep here” he said as if what you had said meant that you would be going way out of your way. “I’ll take care of it in the morning” he said with a sweet smile.

You looked down at his empty plate and back at the one in your hands. You didn’t think that he would have expected for you to stay with him overnight. You thought of a way to politely refuse but felt that everything seemed very awkward and cold.

“did you need to do something?” he asked you with raised eyebrows and his interest piqued

You looked up to him with wide eyes. Busted. “I just-“ you started but couldn’t finish the rest of the sentence. It felt like you were running away from him. But you knew that if you had said anything to him that was a lie that he would be sure to figure it out one way or another. he has cameras everywhere. You gently reminded yourself.

“I…” you huffed out frustrated that it wasn’t simple to just say what you needed to say

“what? What’s going on?” he asked scooting closer to you on the bed and ran a hand down your thigh

You were hyper aware of the feeling of his palms on your body and you lightly shuddered. You looked down at where his hand rested and then you looked up at him. It was now or never, you either tell the truth or lie to him.

“I promised Chanyeol that tonight I would stay with him” you said quietly finally revealing the truth ready to get a scolding

You sat in a moment of silence and there was no response from him. You couldn’t stand the quiet so you looked away from him unable to continue to look him in the eye.

“okay, no worries” he finally said

You snapped your head up to look at him and you cocked an eyebrow. You were baffled for a moment and you looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

You didn’t think that it was going to be so simple to him that you were going to be with another man right after he had just said that he was jealous of you spending time with other members. So it was a lie…noted. You cleared your throat and started to make your way off of the bed. You gathered up all of your clothes and straightened yourself up before you would leave. You picked up your plate off of the bed and held your hand out to take Suho’s. he smiled up at you and handed his plate to you in silence.

You softly padded to the door and opened it up widely. You stepped into the doorway and quietly bid Suho goodnight.  he nodded back to you with a small smile and you returned his smile before shutting the door behind you.

There was no one in the hallways but you could hear commotion in the living room, and you investigated what the noise was. When you walked in you saw four men playing video games and yelling over each other, bad mouthing how bad each other played. You chuckled at how childish the behavior was and moved into the kitchen, where you knew there were bound to be lingering men, hungry and waiting for food.

You rounded the corner and was surprised to see that there wasn’t anyone inside. You looked at the sink and the oven to see if there was any dishes or messes to clean up to distract yourself, but you were shocked that it was completely clean, despite the number of dishes that you were sure was going to accumulate after so many men had to eat.

You sighed deeply and nodded your head. Your instinctive intuitions about them were beginning to prove themselves wrong time and time again. Despite the few men who still terrified you the rest of the were surprisingly charming and welcoming. They would help you in whatever way they could, and you appreciated them greatly for it.

You looked back into the living room for any traces of Chanyeol before you began your search for him, but found nothing. so instead of lingering around you climbed up the stairs back to the room where you had painted for him earlier.

Nearing the door you noticed a light shining from underneath his door, giving Chanyeol’s location away. You lightly knocked on the door awaiting for a response for you to enter, or at least for Chanyeol to come to the door. You waited and there was no response or sign of movement from the room. You hesitated for a moment wondering if you should come back another time or just go into the room. But thinking about how open you and Chanyeol had been the past few days you had decided that it wouldn’t do any harm to walk in and make yourself known.

You cracked the door open slightly and peeked inside of the room. You looked around the bedroom and noticed the back of chanyeol’s head on the other side of his bed.

You quietly crept into the room and shut the door behind you as sofly as you could, in order to not disturb whatever it was that had captured all of chanyeol’s attention. You tiptoed to the edge of the bed and peered over to see what Chanyeol was doing. You could now see a pair of headphones and his big hands strumming on an electric guitar as he played.

You softly climbed his bed and made your way closer and closer to the edge revealing more of Chanyeol. You held a hand to your mouth to stifle the laughter that shook through you as you abruptly grabbed the top of chaneyols head.

He yelped, shrunk down and froze in place, not prepared for an attack so suddenly. You laughed out loud at how silly he looked, frightened and unprepared as to what to do next, but as soon as he realized that it was only you he immediately sprung into action.

He quickly gathered himself and jumped up, and over across you on the bed. He hands roamed your body and tickled whatever available flesh he could. Laughing now that the tables had turned and he was back in control. You gasped for air and begged for him to stop. And only until your face had turned the deepest shade of red did he stop his tickle attack.

He let go of you and you let your body go limp against his mattress as you desperately tried to calm your breathing. He sat next to you on the bed and smiled an evil grin down at you. When you finally felt like a normal being again you leaned up on your elbows and smiled back.

“what were you up to?” you asked him

He shrugged and looked away “I don’t know. Sometimes I get bored and just come in here and play”

You nodded your head and hummed, in understanding. Sometimes whenever you got bored you did the same thing, but instead of playing music you baked. Not only did it make you feel better about whatever was making you stressed out but it also helped you take your mind off of things.

“what were you playing?” you asked Chanyeol and he visibly froze in place.

You raised an eyebrow at his shocked state and eyed his guitar. “sorry, if it’s personal. You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to” you said nervous that you had maybe crossed a boundary for Chanyeol

“no… no I’m sorry I just…” Chanyeol sighed and looked down at the musical instrument “I only play it when I get really stressed out. There’s something about just putting on the headphones and making you senses filled with only what you create that’s relieving.”

Your eyebrows crinkled and you looked up to Chanyeol with concern. He didn’t seem stressed out to you, but you guessed that there was more to what meets the eye. You sat up so you were sitting properly and you faced Chanyeol on his bed.

“chan, what’s going on?” you asked him with a serious expression

He looked up at you with an uncertain grimace and then chuckled  “did you call me chan?” he asked with a small smile

Your eyes went wide “oh, um im sorry. I kind of just blurted that out without even thinking” you apologized

Chanyeol just chuckled even harder “no. its okay, really!” he ran a hand through his hair “I just didn’t expect a nickname to come from you” he explained

“oh” you said softly before looking at your hands, now feeling awkward about the mood of the room

“here” Chanyeol said getting up and grabbing his guitar only to sit back down on the bed across from you.

He unplugged the amp chord, the head phones and the distorter from the guitar and handed the instrument over to you. Unwillingly you accepted it, knowing nothing about the thing. You didn’t know what the chords were, how to hold a guitar, or how to play in the slightest. You looked up at him confused and he smiled down at you.

“don’t know how to play?” he asked

No violently shook your head no and he giggled. Come here he said, separating his legs so you could sit in front of him. You looked up at him unsure, but bit your tongue and did it telling yourself that it was only so he could teach you.

As you settled in between his legs he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and took your hands in his. He pointed out and strummed on every chord so you could become familiar with the instrument. And as soon as you got somewhat comfortable he started to teach you how to play a simple song on your own.

“ah” he groaned “you almost had it, but you messed up the last chord”

You mentally scolded yourself and shook your hand out, feeling the fatigue in it from the atypical hand movement. Once more you lined up your hands on the guitar and inhaled a deep breath.

Slowly you started to strum the song once more and within a minute smiled to yourself in triumph. You had done everything right this time, and while it wasn’t necessarily rocket science, it was a big accomplishment to you.  

“you did good” Chanyeol laughed and patted your head softly “now try playing it faster and faster each time”

You sighed and went back at it again playing the song slightly faster each time than the last until finally you had gotten a hang of the song. You turned your head and smiled at Chanyeol in excitement, but your smile slowly dropped as you realized how close you and Chanyeol actually were.

You stared into his eyes and he softly gulped realizing that the position that you were in was exactly where he wanted you to be. He slowly leaned in to kiss you and his heart rate accelerated when he realized that you weren’t turning your head or denying him.

He was mere centimeters from your face and you had closed your eyes, ready for him to give you a soft kiss. But when the door opened and someone stepped inside of Chanyeol’s room you couldn’t help but turn shy and pull away from Chanyeol.

A throat cleared and you looked up to see a smirking Suho at the doorway of Chanyeol’s room. He shifted his weight on his feet and he turned to glare at Chanyeol. You were suddenly far more conscious of your position with your back pressed up against chanyeol’s chest. you quickly scooted down the bed so you were a safe distance from Chanyeol but also not to close to suho who looked less than happy.

“what are you doing?” suho asked with a deflated tone as if he already knew what was going on but was asking for confirmation

“I was teaching her how to play the guitar” Chanyeol said after a moment of hesitation

Suho hummed and walked towards the edge of the bed where you were sitting. He grabbed your hands and assessed your palms and fingers to make sure that the guitar strings weren’t too rough on you. When he dropped them, satisfied that you weren’t hurt he put his hands on your shoulders and began gently rubbing at them.

You were too nervous to say anything or do anything, so you mindlessly played with your fingers as you looked down at your feet.

“why don’t you go take a shower while Chanyeol and I have a little discussion” Suho said to you in your ear, loud enough that both you and Chanyeol could hear.

You gulped and looked up to Chanyeol, afraid of what a little discussion meant. You slowly nodded your head and moved into Chanyeol’s conjoined bathroom at a snails pace. When you were finally inside you stood in front of the mirror for a few minutes, hoping that you could overhear whatever was about to take place in the other room.

“what did you want to talk about suho?” Chanyeol asked with a firm voice

“I wanted to talk to you about y/n.” suho started and you could feel the energy deepen somehow “a lot of members have now shown interest in her and I wanted to give everyone the same talk so that there is no confusion.” His voice trailed off to become dangerously deep

“Y/n is not just a play thing. She will be respected and treated like an equal.” Suho started and you immediately let out a sigh of relief “if she decides that she wants to become intimate with you then that is her own choice, and no one else’s.  and no one is to harm her in any way, do you understand me?” Suho asked like a stern father

“of course “ you heard Chanyeol mutter like it was a joke that Suho was even mentioning these things to him

“good. Now scoot over” suho said

You could hear sheets rustling and a few grunt noises

“wait! What?... What are-.. What are you doing?” you could hear Chanyeol’s flustered voice

“I’m trying to get in bed!” suho said sounding fed up

“why are you trying to sleep in here?” Chanyeol asked back

“after what I just did to her, I don’t exactly feel like sharing. So it’ll be both of us or I drag her ass back to my room. Which shall it be?”

[ofgeneticperfection]

ABCs of your OCs

A list of oc questions in alphabetical categories - i made each category based on the first word I could think of in alphabetical order, so enjoy!

A: Aptitude 1. What are your oc’s natural abilities, things they’ve been doing since young? Well as far as natural goes, she’s always been good at digging up details and exploring things. She’s always had the ability to read people as well and has always been able to manipulate her way through situations.  2. What activities have they participated in? Does being a Science Experiment count as an activity? She’s certainly not had the chance to join clubs or extracurricular but she’s managed to find people who have taught her how to Hack and code on the side. Aside from that she’s assisted with other experiments.  3. What abilities do they have that they’ve worked for? By work she’s had to gain control over them but that would be her Telekinesis mostly. She’s also worked to learn how to fight with her fan-blades, combat is a skill no?

4. What things are they bad at? Showing emotions. She’s been taught that they make you weak or get in the way so for the most part she tends to really hide them, even from herself. I guess she’s bad at dealing with them too because of that. She usually just overrides the bad ones with distractions or sedatives. 5. What is their most impressive talent? Hmm...probably Telekinesis? Though arguably her skill with computers can be quite impressive, she does help discover how to upload consciousness after all. 

B: Basics 1. what is their hair color? Platinum or I like to say Moonwhite 2. what is their eye color? Electric blue, they have that glow behind them.  3. how tall are they? 5′4 4. how old are they? If she no longer ages, does it matter? 5. how much do they weigh? 125lbs

C: Comfort  1. how do they sit in a chair?  With legs curled up into it 2. in what position do they sleep? Curled on her stomach 3. what is their ideal comfort day? Remind me what a comfort day is? I don’t think she knows. 4. what is their major comfort food? why?  Cupcakes - They’re pretty and taste amazing 5. who is the best at comforting them when down? Reeve Tuesti animus-inspire

D: Decoration 1. how would they decorate a house if they had one under their name? Her color scheme would be black and royal blue and it would probably have a victorian-esque style to the furniture. 2. how would they decorate their child’s room? What child? x) 3. how do they decorate their own room? Much like above, black bed, blue carpet, vanity, antique looking mirrors, books strewn about etc..and then probably some high tech laptop xD 4. what type of clothes and accessories do they wear? She usually wears some type of dress or long sweater dress w/ leggings type of outfits. But she does get into her crazy sci-fi armor mode at times with metallic bands and alien-esque designs. Example HERE  Also, syringe belts, corset tops, vinyl...whatever she feels like but nothing ever baggy or denim.  5. do they like makeup/nail/beauty trends? I’m not sure that she’s into trends but if she’s browsing and finds a look that she likes she bound to try it out with her own twist to it. 

E: External Personality 1. does the way they do things portray their internal personality? Not exactly, she tends to a hide a lot by using the outside as a mask. Usually a cold exterior and the colder she is about something? Chances are the more that it actually bothers her inside. 2. do they do things that conform to the norm? I’m not sure she knows what normal is #lablife 3. do they follow trends or do their own thing? She tends to do her own thing  4. are they up-to-date on the internet fads? She doesn’t care 5. do they portray their personality intentionally or let people figure it out on their own? People are going to have to figure it out on their own, whatever she portrays is what she wants certain people to see. It’s all a controlled act unless you do break through to her. 

F: Fun 1. what do they do for fun? Tease people!, Works on her own projects, Talks to pet lab mice >> 2. what is their ideal party? A fancy club/bar with drinks and the atmosphere to not give a fuck about anything 3. who would they have the most fun with? Reeve Tuesti 4. can they have fun while conforming to rules? No, rules usually get broken whether intentional or not.  5. do they go out a lot? Not in her earlier years, and I wouldn’t say a lot but she does jump at any chance to get out when she can in later years or certain verses. 

G: Gorgeous 1. what is their most attractive external feature? Oof, I’d rather someone else answer but I would say her eyes? They’re very prominent .  2. what is the most attractive part of their personality? Sly, cunning, seductive. I know people like the tease and the mystery. 3. what benefits come with being their friend? Extreme favors and definitely protection. Need anything that science can create? She’s got your back. 4. what parts of them do they like and dislike? She likes her loyalty and strength but she dislikes her alien side and does what she can to hide it from others.  5. what parts of others do they envy? She doesn’t. In her mind she’s Perfect and has been conditioned that way. 

H: Heat 1. do they rather a hot or cold room? Cold so she can snuggle.  2. do they prefer summer or winter? Summer! 3. do they like the snow? It’s pretty...but it’s very cold so not really.  4. do they have a favorite summer activity? She loves the ocean and to hang at Costa del Sol. 5. do they have a favorite winter activity? She doesn’t experience much Winter in Midgar. 

I: In-the-closet 1. what is their sexuality? Most likely Bi.  2. have they ever questioned their sexuality? No. She likes what she likes. 3. have they ever questioned their gender? No....aside from the fact she’s part alien??? 4. would/was their family be okay with them being LGBT? What family? 5. how long would/did it take for them to come out?  She’s pretty much a take me how I am or leave it type. 

J: Joy 1. what makes them happy? Kisses, attention, affection 2. who makes them happy? Reeve! 3. are there any songs that bring them joy? Hip-hop de Chocobo :| 4. are they happy often? No - certain verses though....when Reeve’s around >> 5. what brings them the most joy in the world? Once again, Reeve x) and being called perfect by certain someones

K: Kill 1. have they ever thought about suicide? Self harm, yes. But never suicide. That would mean losing.  2. have they ever thought about homicide? Yeah most likely :| 3. if they could kill anyone without punishment, would they? who? Anyone who hurts whoever she protects or loves. Then again...she believes that’s the easy way out and she’d rather break them mentally or make them suffer over death.  4. who would miss them if they died? Her sissy Ari, Reeve, and I’d like to think Hojo.  5. who would be happy they died, anyone? I’M SURE! But I don’t know who. DO tell me if it’s you xD Certain sects of Avalanche perhaps?

L: Lemons 1. what is their favorite fruit? Pineapple, Kiwi, Raspberries, Loganberries 2. what is their least favorite fruit? Blueberries maybe? 3. are there any foods they hate? Pork products 4. do they have any food intolerance? Intolerant of shitty options  5. what is their favorite food? Sushi!

M: Maternal 1. would they want a daughter or a son? If with the right person, sure? She’d more lean towards a Son. 2. how many children do they want? It would all depend.  3. would they be a good parent? Probably 4. what would they name a son? what would they name a daughter? I don’t want to sit here forever just to figure this out xD It’ll come to her when the time comes. 5. would they adopt? If there was reason, sure. 

N: Never Have I Ever 1. what would they never do? Betray someone she loves. 2. what have they never done that they want to do? Gold Saucer please :V 3. is there anything they absolutely can’t believe people do? She certainly doesn’t understand camping. 4. what is the most embarrassing thing they’ve done? Oh um....thrown a cookie at the President? I’m sure she’s had lots of embarrassing moments.  5. have they done anything they thought they’d never do? Left the fucking labs! With Reeve of all people...never thought she’d see THAT coming. 

O: Optimism 1. are they optimistic or pessimistic? This tends to fluctuate 2. are they openly optimistic, throwing it on others? If she needs to cheer someone up.  3. are they good at giving advice? Yes! She’s very crafty and know’s how to work situations.     4. is there anyone in their life that throws optimism on them? Hmmm...Arialla! 5. were they always optimistic? Not really

P: Personality 1. what is their best personality trait? Strength and Loyalty 2. what is their worst personality trait? Vindictive, Stubborn, Volatile 3. what of their personality do others love? Bold, Persistent 4. what of their personality do others envy? Fearless or crazy 5. do they hate anything about their personality/about other’s personalities? She hate weakness in others like...extreme William type weakness :| She tends to hate her own emotions quite a lot. 

Q: Questions 1. do they ask for help? Yes if she needs it! She’s always willing to trade a favor.  2. do they ask questions in class? She’s not in school but she asks questions. It’s part of the scientific method. 3. do they answer questions that make them a little uncomfortable? Yes...unless its something she wants to keep hidden. 4. do they ask weird questions? All the damn time 5. are they curious? VERY!

R: Rules 1. do they follow rules? What are those again? 2. would they be a strict or laid-back parent? Both? 3. have they ever been consequences for breaking a rule? Yes, but she thinks its amusing/funny. 4. have they broken any rules they now regret breaking? Nope! No regrets! 5. do they find any rules they/others follow absolutely ridiculous? Most of them to be honest. Why limit yourself with the limitations of others?

S: Streets 1. are they street-smart? No, she tries :| 2. would they give money to someone on the streets? Yeah 3. have they ever gotten in a fight on the streets? If she hasn’t it’ll happen at some point. 4. has anything happened to them on the streets? Um... well, she may have slept with someone on a street but we’re not talking about that >> 5. are they cautious when out? Yes, she’s always cautious. 

T: Truth 1. are they honest? No, depends who she’s talking too though.  2. can they tell if someone is lying? Yeah, she’s good at reading others.  3. is it obvious when they’re lying? It’s not obvious but she does have her tells which mostly involve diversions.  4. have they lied about anything they regret lying about? If anything, it’s the lies that she tells herself that she regrets.  5. have they told truths that have been spread against their will? Yes

U: Underdog 1. have they been bullied? That would be a stupid thing to do. 2. have they bullied anyone? Aside from teasing or being manipulative for a reason? I don’t think so. 3. have they been physically attacked by a bully? Nope - again that would be stupid 4. have they ever been doubted? Probably - Definitely  5. have they surprised people with being good at something? Yes

V: Vomit 1. do they vomit often? Not too often but when those emotions slip out in extremes she tends to throw up, what she shoves down must come up eventually. When she can’t take something this usually happens. Or if something impacts her hard. 2. do they get lots of stomach aches? Occasionally, she gets more headaches than anything. 3. are they good at comforting someone ill? Yes 4. what do they like as far as comfort goes? Someone to cuddle with 5. do they burp, cough, or hiccup most when nauseous? when vomiting? Coughs

W: Water 1. do they drink enough water? Probably not, if she even remembers to drink at all 2. have they learned to swim? Yes 3. do they like to swim? Yes 4. can they dive? Never tried 5. can they swim without holding their nose? Yes

X: Xylophone 1. what is their favorite genre of music? Electronic 2. do they have a favorite song? Too many to list x.x 3. do they have a favorite band/artist/singer? Still, too many to list 4. can they sing well? Yes 5. can they rap? Never tried to. 

Y: You 1. how old were you when you created them? 11 or 12 *cries* 2. what inspired you to create them? Final Fantasy 7 3. were they different when they were first created? Oh heck yes - she wasn’t even an experiment at first xD 4. do you enjoy writing them more than other characters? YES YES, she’s like all I can write really 5. what’s your favorite thing about them? How dynamic she is

Z: Zebra 1. what’s their favorite animal? Black Lions 2. do they like animals? Yes 3. cats or dogs? Cats 4. what’s their dream pet?  I’m sure if she wanted it she’d have it

5. do they have any pets at the moment? oooh, just a certain puppy  Tagged by: @animus-inspire (for messaging me this mess) Tagging: ALL OC’S PLEASE

[blissfulalchemist]

Top 5 Self Care/stress relief activities!

So these are 7 things that I do and maybe they will help you! but I do not claim to be an expert and these may not work for you and that’s okay I hope you have things that work for you!

1. Doing one good thing for someone else! This can be anything from making someone’s favorite food, giving someone a flower you found, making something for someone, or even giving money/food to someone homeless. Anything, so long as it’s something good that makes the other person smile. For me I just creates this moment of joy and something I can point to and say “Hey I’m not a piece of shit because I just made that person’s day a little brighter.”

2. Writing! This is very recent for me because I took such a long break from it but now that it’s back in my life I don’t want to stop! There is the obvious that I can write through my feelings and just put something together that expresses what I’m feeling. Goes both ways for me in having so much happiness and spark that I need to slow down and just write something fluffy(though yes I am aware this is my brand and I do write it to feel better also). But the bad stuff? The angst? That helps and honestly brings me up a little bit, which is a better method than harming myself like I used too. More than that though! Writing ties into the first item on this list. I may not like everything I like but putting it out there and seeing the comments and likes tells me that it made someone’s day brighter and I have done something good for them. I know there are people out there that enjoy my writing and that makes me happy.

3. Immersing myself in fictional worlds! Now I know this sounds bad and it can be if done for a long period of time. However short times isn’t such a bad thing. Sometimes your brain just needs a rest from reality and immersing myself helps with that. I get to feel something different and I get to see realities play out where my problems get to work out for once. This can be musing about OC verses, reading, writing, or even just watching my favorite shows and movies. All of it gives me comfort and a chance to rest.

4. Crying! Now I know we all hate to cry but it helps. It really does, there is scientific evidence to prove it too. Cry for as long as you need too and to others if you want too. If you’re having a hard time pick that movie or show or video that always makes you tear up. Just let yourself cry! It’s okay to cry and okay to feel those feelings. Once you feel them you can then let them go a lot of times. No one wants to get stuck in the happiness trap and letting feelings out helps you not get stuck in that.

5. Break it down! If you are feeling overwhelmed and stressed and it’s like everything is coming at you all at once.....just stop! Take a moment, breathe and then slow down. This is something that takes practice it’s not easy and I understand that. Once you do get some practice or can tell what the signs are for you try to stop and breathe before it gets worse at the first signs. Once you slow down look at the problem and break it down into smaller chunks. Look at those chunks and then see what you can do right away, what takes a little time, and what you can throw out because there’s either nothing you can do or it can be tossed for now. Write it out, record yourself saying it, draw a diagram, or think it out no matter what just break it down! This also can help in finding things that you can ask others for help with.

6. Ask for help! You can’t be expected to do everything on your own and it’s not bad to need help. I know it’s hard, I know it’s so so hard to ask for help. But there are times we need it. Even if it’s not for emotional things it’s not bad to ask for help for life things. You don’t want to burden people with your mental problems but those problems are preventing you from doing dishes? Ask someone you trust to help you clean them. Make it something fun so you’re not alone, and a reminder that you aren’t alone. Getting help doesn’t have to be just for emotional things but ask for help for things that become effected by those feelings. Remember the worse people can say is no but if you’re asking someone you trust and loves you they will work with you most likely.

7. Celebrate the little things! There is always something out there that makes your day a little brighter even if just for a quarter of a second it’s there. Look to it and celebrate it. This can also go to celebrating things that you did that felt productive for you. No matter how small you can know that you did something that you can celebrate!

And remember! There are so many things out there that can help you and you are so loved and wanted and worth everything to the world! 💖 It may not always feel like it but you are! There is always someone out there that loves you! And you can add me to that list!💖🌺🥰

[fheythfully]

Putting all my thoughts on the 5.3 MSQ under the cut. Beware of course of spoilers! Overall I really enjoyed the patch. There were a lot of times where I sounded like an excited dinosaur.

So first things first, the way the patch started with the kids was so cute. I was expecting more with the Ardbert-esque kid, especially when he said he wanted to adventure with friends because he felt like he was missing something... but then they didn’t? I’m not sure what the point of that line of his was then. Ardbert’s soul is inside ours, and also has been shown to have moved on, but I wonder if some fragment of it--the part that is bound to the specific world’s Lifestream--can be reborn? Anyway. A bit bummed we didn’t get more with that train of thought but it was cute nevertheless. Also, apothecary. I was going “IS THIS A HINT?” the moment the kiddo said she wanted to be one as a WoL.

Also, I am totally writing a shortfic of the twins, Satella and Ryne hanging out in the Crystarium library with Moren bringing them books of interest while they sneak in tea and snacks. Ryne falls asleep and is eventually found by Thancred. Alisaie teases him for being a doting father. When everyone leaves, Satella is left cozily snuggled up as the evening turns feeling almost like home at the Arcanist’s Guild.

I really liked the bit where Alisaie’s desire to surpass the WoL and competitive nature is shown, and that some part of it is due to insecurity. I love the character depth and growth SE gives her over the patches. I just about had a heart attack when she started getting woozy with a noise in her head.

Elidibus feeling summoned by the WoL and seeing an Amaurotine in their stead gave me feelings, because it means we are whole enough now to form some sort of connection to the Ascians. Only sundered ones are left now though, so I wonder if that will still stay true.

I did have a heart attack at hearing Thancred collapsed. I was not expecting him to be okay when we got back to see him. Dawn’s Respite scene was very sobering and set me up for something entirely different than the ending we got (thank god).

Alisaie being stubborn and sullen with the Exarch made me wonder if she’s seeing the past with Louisoux in him, and Alphinaud’s comment about how she handled their grandfather leaving all that well all but confirmed it. That’s very sweet.

I made a very loud note as I was playing at the fact that a Rejoining soul must recognize its part on the Source as itself. Not sure if that was just for the Exarch’s case (though there are comments about how we and Ardbert fused very easily too) but I have Filed This Away.

Seeing Shtola collapsed gave me another heart attack but she’s definitely possessed of nine lives. The duty with Elidibus was fantastic, though the lack of voice acting caught me off guard (covid? are duties never voiced?). Fighting the baby Scions made me full of glee and then it got even better from there. Answers playing over the city, and then the HW theme, and then SB--fantastic. I especially paused when it started snowing. I appreciate a lot what Elidibus was doing, which was trying to show to us that the people who seem so ancient and recreated only as puppets had once meant something to him and his own. The fight was a lot of fun. I took a screenshot of berserk-Ardbert for kicks.

Also, the bit where he calls you by your name, and the name is switched from Elidibus to Ardbert. My heart. I have a lot of notes about this for future writing.

Elidibus as Zodiark’s heart and primal weren’t a big surprise as it’s been confirmed before (I think?) BUT he’s basically the primal for the idea of the Warrior of Light and I think that is magnificent. I still don’t have a full grasp on Elidibus as shown in this patch: his memories are fractured, whether by age or Zodiark; he’s driven both by his own ambition and Zodiark’s influence. He’s all over the place and I’m going to have to take better measure of him as I replay everything in NG+.

I have a note that says, “Ella why are you picking up random things off the ground that your enemies have dropped???” but it all turned out even better than okay. I don’t understand how he could have dropped all those Convocation crystals other than as a plot point but whatever. It was a great sequence. “All that remains is to pray. To pray that we will one day meet again, beneath a blue sky.” Made me tear up. The twisting of the Convocation from the gentle, kind Amaurotines to what they are today is brutally heart breaking.

I made a note of how the trees in Amaurot are starting to wither--I am not sure if we’ve always had that? But if not, definitely a small sign of Hades’ magic fading?

Bear with me now but I CAN’T STOP SCREAMING ABOUT AZEM. I of course didn’t get the title right (my 14th is Altima), but I got the duty/job so almost right. My Altima is the Shepherd, though to the souls on the planet living and departing to create and live alongside the Lifestream. The entire scene with Hyth had me shaking in my chair with excitement over how perfectly it described my headcanon 14th--down to her wandering the planet when she wasn’t in the city. Granted it fits with all our WoLs and is specifically made to be so, but I am so excited. Not sure what I’ll do with this when I write, whether I will alter my canon to fit the game or plow on ahead, but we’ll see. I’m just so excited. And the new TITLE fits my OCs to a T. God, thank you, SE. I also love that we are the “sun” and can’t wait for the future connections and theories about the 14th and Azeyma and Azim.

“After all, I cannot say whether I act of my own volition or by the will of my recreator!” Made me laugh-cry.

Scions confirmed that seeing Amaurot awoke a great grief in them, which was then supported by the random Eulmore NPC crying at the sight of it. So, it’s not even reliant on how whole your soul is: everyone who sees it feels something, a soul-genetic memory, maybe? I can’t wait to use this. Also makes me wonder if this is why in the patch the Scions are more wont to encourage you to talk things out with Elidibus, as in SHB they were pretty set against Emet-Selch.

The new dungeon was okay. I need to replay it again and look around more (is there a hint of Hildibrand there??). The Necromancer and Berserker class, though the latter may be Warrior same way Arcanists are called Ink Mage, made me pout a little. I want Necromancer. Also, THIER White Mages get Protect? Pffft.

I didn’t take any notes for the trial but. It was brilliant. The run through Crystal Tower with the Exarch was a wonderful callback (there were so many callbacks, it was great) and then when he told us to go ahead I was like, you better mean it that you don’t plan to play your trump card unless we’re present! The trial itself was breathtaking. When the Amaurotine first showed up I thought it was Azem, then when they snapped their fingers I was like cool we can do that too, and then they did the Emet-Selch wave and I lost it. HOW!? Shtola has a theory that even she admits is far fetched but. Wow. I am wondering which one it may be: Emet-Selch truly somehow having his soul live (we were just in the space where Ascians’ souls go between bodies) and assisted us; or was he called by Azem’s crystal as a memory; or was it a memory entirely? Just. That cameo. I miss you, Emet-Selch. For yours is the seat of the fourteenth broke me also and I’m just all over the place. Elidibus as the Warrior of Light was great.

I don’t understand why he went Baby in the end there. I can’t imagine the Convocation recruited and sacrificed a child. My headcanon is that it’s just meant to represent his childlike devotion and drive to his goals. He wanted to help his brothers and sisters so badly he detached himself from Zodiark. Seeing him sitting there cradling the crystals and talking about how it’s a beautiful day and they’re not there to see it was heartbreaking. The Amaurotines lost so, so much--and there’s no way to bring any of it back. I am glad the Unsundered have finally a chance to rest.

The goodbye scene with Ryne was a little lacking to me. I wanted Thancred to hug her, damn it. At least he told her he’s proud of her. She’s so brave with how she tries not to cry before them. She’s coming into her own, with her own ideals, but also so like Minfilia’s that it made my heart full. I will act as her post moogle to Thancred any time, kupo.

Also the one line she has in Twine about how Gaia is her friend who will be there for her is sweet and I laugh at the idea of Gaia’s reaction.

Okay, so, the ending. Probably the thing I did not expect at all. I expected death. No one died. The animations were beautiful, and Alisaie was such a joy to watch. Just. I don’t have words for it. I was so overcome with happiness at how perfect they all were: Alisaie sinking into her chain in a sulk, the Archons fondling their weapons, Alphinaud with tea and a book. Alisaie jumping off to go find a fight and Alphinaud’s brotherly exasperation. The banter between Urianger and Y’Shtola. My heart is so, so full.

On to the topic of the Exarch, which I did not expect to have this many feelings on: first of all, I expected him to die. We all did. How can one man survive SO many death flags!? When our WoL ran out of the Stones like a wound up mammet I was there with her, heart pounding praying for it to have worked. I am bummed that we didn’t get to experience him actually waking, but that means I can write about it... which I already did, actually. Because: I came out of this with a very unexpected, slowly unfurling Ella/G’raha ship. This was a surprise because ARR G’raha was not someone I even remembered all that well, as I played CT when it came out, but I remember thinking he was a bit too immature for romantic ships; and the Exarch always felt too distant and too much. I was fond of him in SHB but in a passing way, also because I was a little bitter that he put the Scions in such danger in the first place (though I understand all the good that’s come as a result, like uncovering the true Ascian plots). Seeing him at the end there, as a fusion of G’raha and the Exarch, somehow turned my view of him on its head and in that moment, I could easily see Ella and him running off and having proper adventures together. The driving attraction to all my ships is a form of shared experience, or at least understanding of what it’s like to bear a heavy burden on your shoulders. The Exarch was again, too much in his role, and I couldn’t see Ella feeling comfortable being close with him. But now, with this ending? Watching the two of them run off together? Oh, I am excited.

I even wrote four pages of fluff on how he got those bobby pins in his hair and I never write fluff. Please look forward to it being posted soon.

Lastly: Ardbert. If you’ve been around my blog long enough, you’ll know that I’ve been an Ardbert shipper since HW. SHB was so good to me in that regard. Personally, I got closure regarding him in the scene of him offering us his axe and was happy with it. I was overjoyed to see him get closure with Seto now, too. I’m not happy with Elidibus using his body and then tearing it apart as he did, but: it made for great angst and sometimes that’s actually okay with me. The confirmation that he can talk to and through us is interesting and I imagine that he does so rarely, as his soul is finally at rest with his friends--where it truly belongs. He lets us live our life, and a part of him is always with us, now. I imagine him and Ella at one point having a conversation about her burgeoning feelings for G’raha, as in my canon she’s never felt quite a strong enough connection or level of comfort with anyone but Ardbert, and him giving her his “blessing” and encouraging her that it’s okay to chase after the comfort and happiness G’raha can bring her. Especially since all of SHB she was in a very very bad place and this ending we got gives me such a sense of respite, no matter how fleeting.

Speaking of fleeting: Zenos and Asahi/Fandaniel. I am still hoping Zenos gets more interesting because I just can’t bring myself to like him, and seeing him destroy the Garlean empire before we even step foot into it is making me a little pouty. Fandaniel is interesting on a few accounts: he’s a sundered Ascians, so what will that mean? Clearly he’s been unhappy with the Unsundereds’ plans. He’s also pretty crazy for “the bringer of order”, if we follow the FF12 Espers. We didn’t get a lot so I am hesitantly interested. But also, Asahi? I hate that kid...

My last thoughts on this are: the Ascian storyline was meant to come to an end with this patch, but clearly we’re still getting content. So I am hoping that was for the Unsundered Ascians and we’ll find out more about the summon of Hydaelyn and all that. I... have exhausted myself typing all this. Wow.

BUT I AM VERY HAPPY WITH THIS PATCH AND WILL REPLAY THAT HAPPY ENDING MANY TIMES. I can’t wait for the future.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

A Family of Five- Part 7: Secret Holder

Calum and Harlowe’s marriage hasn’t always been easy, but it has always been filled with love. This is a collaborative experience with In Sorrow and In Joy. Dad!Calum. Black OC.

CW: Over the course of this series, there are mentions of pregnancy, therapy, and postpartum depression. There is also 18+ Content (Smut)

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No one has my permission to repost my work of fiction. This includes translations as well. 

______________________________

Te Koha wipes his brow, the dry heat wafting in through the open door of the garage. He needs the draft though, when there was the occasional breeze that manage to keep him cool. He is determined to finish. Nikau has been dying for a jukebox style dresser. It does not go with the soccer paraphernalia plastered across his room, but Koha’s not one to try and make sense of his brother’s decor sense. Though both his parents tried to talk the little boy out of it, Nikau stuck to his guns. 

Calum and Harlowe tried to find one online, nothing too expensive, since who knew when the boy would grow tired of it. But nothing was coming up. So Koha offered to make him one. He liked working with his hands, he said it’d be a birthday gift, if Calum and Harlowe were okay with going in for half on the supplies. Calum did a step better and paid for it. Koha had money from his gig at the cinema. But he wasn’t going to argue with his father on that. Calum did it because he knew the amount of time it would take Koha to do it and he was touched that Te Koha would work this out. 

Koha turns the sander off, setting it aside to look over the final piece before he can prime and paint. Running a hand over the wood, it’s smooth. He slips the dust mask down right as a knock sounds. 

“How’s it going?”

Koha looks up to see Nikau standing in the opening of the garage that faces the driveway. “Good.” He waves his brother over. “Come here. You can put the last piece in place, yeah?”

“Really?” Nikau asks, eyes growing in excitement. 

“Really really. Now, c’mon.” 

Nikau speeds into the room, steps carefully the cables. “We gotta make sure this fits.” Nikau pulls over the stepstool and carefully grabs the wood as it’s put over his head. “Have you put the dowels in?” 

“Not yet.” Koha watches as the wood sits perfectly. Then he grins down to Nik. “Fits like a dream. “You can help me put them in, if you want?”

The little boy nods, the back of his head tapping lightly against Koha’s chest. The pair work twisting in dowels, unaware of their father’s presence. Calum leans against the garage door that leads into the house, arms folded across his chest. “So how are we going to paint it?” Nikau asks. 

“Esha said she had some designs. We’ll ask her after dinner, I guess.”

“I want it neon! Yeah! That’ll be cool, right, Koha?”

The older boy nods. “Yeah, super cool.”

It goes silent. Koha playfully ruffles Nik’s hair, earning him a huff from the young boy. Nikau gives his loose curls a shake to undo Koha’s mess of his hair. “Alright, boys. Dinner time,” Calum says. His boys turn around and nod at their father. Nikau climbs into the house first, gently bumping against Calum’s hip. Calum falls into the wall, huffing a little in an over exaggeration. “Watch it. I’m fragile!”

Nikau chuckles at the antic.  Calum does it every time. “You can take a hip. It’s not your fingers or voice.” He skips out the way of Calum’s reach, before he can be tickled. “Gotta clean up!” he beams.  Te Koha cleans his hands off, before putting the garage door down and closing the second door that leads outside. 

“It’s coming along nicely,” Calum notes, walking further into the garage. He looks at the wooden frame. He knows once it’s prime and painted it’s gonna be amazing. 

“Neon lights would make it pop,” Koha mutters. “Just don’t have the time.” 

Calum looks to his eldest, much like him. Maybe too much like him, Calum thinks. Always hyper critical of himself, always thinking of something better, a way to improve. As if right now is not enough. “Next time. Besides, this is amazing. You’re making an actual dresser. From scratch. That’s pretty incredible.”

“Thanks Dad.”

“Te Koha David Hood,” Harlowe bellows before her head pops around the corner of the door molding. “You’re a rock star,” she shouts. Then her voice lowers to normal,  “And it’s time to eat. For all your hard work, I made peach cobbler.”

“Thank, Mom.”

“Of course. Don’t be too long, boys.” 

“Good thing she doesn’t yell too often right?” Calum teases. Koha lets his laughter escape him. He honestly is too accustomed to the shouts of his mother. The house feels a little emptier when she’s gone for conferences. Though Esha for sure picks up the slack. Dinner goes as every other dinner does. Nikau and Esha talk to the most, animated while recreating their days at school or out with friends. Te Koha goes last. His days go about the same, or at least they appear to to his parents. 

“Today was fine.” Sometimes he’ll se good if something exciting happened. But most days are just fine. “I passed that maths exam. Didn’t do stellar, but I passed. Teacher will let me work over those problems I got wrong for half points to add back to the score.”

Harlowe nods. She knows the trig and Te Koha aren’t the best of friends. He does well in all his subjects, but this year has been a little tricky for him. “Well that’s good. You staying after tomorrow then?”

He nods. “I’ll stay until Esha’s done with her rehearsals and bring us both back home.” 

“Are we painting my dresser this weekend?” Nikau asks, reaching for another spoonful of green beans. One of his favorite veggies. Getting him to try new foods is still a struggle so they stick to the knowns for him though they slowly introduce new things. 

“Of course we are!” Esha cheers, reaching across like she’s going for some extra helping of potatoes. In reality she’s going in for the roll off Koha’s plate when her mother’s gaze is turned away. Te Koha doesn’t care for them but instead of fussing when Harlowe puts one on his plate, he just smiles. Esha takes it for him and splits it with Nikau, next to her. 

Calum knows. He always knows and tries to keep Harlowe’s attention until the theft is complete. Thankfully he doesn’t have to work to hard because Jack walks over, and sets himself down at her feet, creating the perfect distraction. Harlowe reaches down to scratch the top of her head. Calum knows that she knows about Te Koha and Esha’s deal. But rather than break the cycle, she places the roll and lets Esha take it without saying anything. 

At the dawn of the weekend, Calum wakes all too early in the morning, Harlowe still sleeping next to him on her back. He presses a kiss to her cheek and slips out of the bed. She’ll wake soon, feeling the shift of the mattress. But she will lay in bed for just a few more minutes. It’s about 6 but he can hear shuffling from across the hall. Then the stairs creak. Too heavy for Nikau. And it’s too early for Esha to even consider waking. Finishing up in the restroom, Calum waits at the door, listening to the alarm disarm itself. The front door opens, the alarm beeps twice to signal it. His first thought is that something is wrong. Though Te Koha can be an early riser, he’s never up before Calum. But rather than panicking, Calum slides into some basketball shorts, changes into a sweat resistant t-shirt and remembers that his running sneakers are downstairs. 

He slides into his sneakers and notices Te Koha in the backyard with the dogs, head tilted up to the sun. Te Koha can sense his father’s presence but doesn’t move. Much like his dad and Nana Jay, Te Koha and Calum share a silent language, a gut understanding of the other. “Wanna go for a run? We can take the dogs with us.”

“Sissy would not be down.”

“Sissy can keep up. But once Mum’s out of bed, we’ll take Pepper and Jack.”

“How is she? Like for real,” Koha asks, turning to face Calum. He remembers the years of watching her curl up into the sheets. He remembers the whole reason for the move. He overheard Harlowe’s breakdown in that bathtub. He was supposed to be asleep, but the sob woke him. Calum ran to the bedroom and Te Koha watched from the crack in his door. He waited a minute or two and then carefully walked into his parents bedroom, pressing his tiny ear to the bathroom door. The sound of his mother’s crying never ceased to break his heart. 

Calum drops his head for a moment. He can’t lie to his son. “She stopped taking her meds for a couple weeks there. She’s back on track, but it’s tough sometimes.”

“Why does she do it? She knows those meds work.”

“It’s-she thinks she can go without. And she knows she shouldn’t. She minored in Psychology in undergrad, you know that?” Te Koha shakes his head. “Yeah. She took enough classes though that she should’ve declared a second major. But didn’t turn in the paperwork in time.She knows good and well she because she takes meds and goes to therapy that her chance of relapse is greater. But the brain’s a powerful organ. It fools us all sometimes.”

It’s understood that Te Koha shouldn’t say anything about this. And normally he wouldn’t. He would press this information deep into himself and keep his lips closed. He would instead push her pill bottle closer to her in the mornings. He’ll count the number of pills when she’s gone. He’d ask Calum about the number of refills. He would ask about therapy. But he’s tired. He’s tired of holding secrets, of keeping his mouth shut. A tap sounds from the glass of the backdoor. Harlowe waves, signaling to both of them that’s she’s out of bed before turning and disappearing further into the house. 

This is it, the time of silence is over. Te Koha steps up onto the deck, walking right past the questioning stare of his father. This isn’t about Calum. This is about his mother. He steps into the house, words barreling over his tongue. “Do you know that I don’t like rolls and let Esha takes them?” he asks to his mother’s back. That’s an easy confession. 

Her hair scarf is still on, but she’s in a sweatshirt and lounge pants. “I know,” she says, still walking into the kitchen. “Would you like me to stop?”

“Do you know that Dad tells me when you stop taking your meds? Do you know that all of us can tell? Nikau, Esha, Pepper, Jack, Sissy--all of us.”

She pulls the fridge open, stepping back with the brita filter in her grasps. “I know.” Her voice is quiet. She puts the filter down on the counter and turns around. “I know because you look at me different when I do. You look at me like you did when you were 5 and thought my depression was your fault. You walked into our old garage and cried, apologizing and saying you would do better. What happened wasn’t your fault and never has been.”

“I know it’s not my fault. I know that now.” Te Koha walks closer to her, pausing a couple steps from her. She looks up to him, eyes watering. He may favor her physically, but his soul is all Calum. She takes his hand, pulling him into a hug. She wishes she could undo all the fear put in him from her own demons. She swore to herself that she would do her best to protect all of her children. But she was the one to hurt him. Not intentionally, not maliciously, but she had done it nonetheless. Te Koha folds into her embrace, feeling the slight tremor to her hands. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I keep hurting you after I promised I wouldn’t.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Ma. You don’t have to hide either. You told me how you got pregnant with me before marrying Dad. You told me that Dad and you nearly didn’t make it. You tell me so much and yet, you hide this. Something that you can’t control.”

“I’m your mother. It’s my job to worry about you. You aren’t to worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you, Ma.”

“Momma’s just hardheaded, huh?”

“Just a little.” They embrace for a moment longer. “I love you,” he whispers to her. He wants no one but her to hear. Not even an ant, not the dogs, not his dad, not even the chill in the air. It is for Harlowe’s ears only. 

He reply is just as quiet in return. “I love you. With every ounce of me.” 

Te Koha slowly pulls back from his mother’s hold, wiping her tears from her cheeks. “You gotta take care of yourself. Who’s gonna nag me or shout in the house even though we’re not supposed to shout in the house? Who’s gonna give those bear hugs that make you feel like you chest will implode? Who’s gonna just put hair oil in my bathroom with little notes on what they’re good for? Who’s gonna do all that if you don’t take care of yourself?”

“Esha,” she says with a wobbly smile. “Well, she’ll definitely shout into the house.” Harlowe nods, sniffling hard. “I’ll take care of myself. I know I shouldn’t stop taking them. I know. I’m just human. Parents are human too. And you shouldn’t be so worried about me. You should be a kid, staying out late, getting drunk, stumbling home shambly.”

Te Koha laughs. He’s not shy about a pint here or there thanks to his Dad. He has friends. He is a still a kid. But he’s a kid that needs his mom. He’d be so lost without her. After things started getting good again, she’d pull him and Esha into her lap, playing with their hair. Their favorite movies on the TV screen. He remembers when they renewed their vows and he watched her dance. That propelled him to relearn the Haka. Thanks to Calum too and his encouraging words. Every birthday she made him cupcakes because he wasn’t a fan of cake. His was the biggest one, lemon with lemon icing.

When his crush in year 7 rejected him, she held him throughout the night, let him cry it out. She never tried to tell him she was too good looking, never tried to tell him that they were wrong. She held him, told him that his person was out there. She told him that it was okay that this hurt. Pain was not to be pushed down, but felt and dealt with it. He needs his mom. It’s as simple as that. “Funny you mention that,” Koha starts. “Ken and Davon and I might be going out tonight. So I wouldn’t wait up for me.”

Harlowe laughs. “But I surely will try to.”

“I know you will.”

After one last hug, Te Koha slides into his sneakers, grabbing the leash for Pepper and following behind Calum and Jack. They stretch for a few minutes, silent between them. The pavement in unforgiving beneath their sneakers, sending jolts up Te Koha’s bones. The air is crisp, warm, but not unforgiving. Pepper keeps pace next to Te Koha’s strides. He pushes past Calum without even realizing. “Keep up, old man,” he teases between pants. 

Calum grins at the taunt. “I’m old, not Superman. Let me be.”

As his feet slap the pavement, Te Koha considers telling his parents. He’s been seeing Davon for a few weeks now. But there’s something fun about having his own secrets. He holds so many others. But this one doesn’t hold him down. This one makes him feel alive, remember the way his lips feel against Koha’s. It’s only technically true that Ken, Davon and him are going out. It’s a double date, Davon and him with Ken and some girl. Koha’s yet to actually meet her. He’s seen in her passing around school, but they’ve never interacted much. She seems nice. But everyone seems nice. Ken’s track record isn’t the best. 

As they look back around to the last stretch of the block, Calum notes the way Te Koha’s head is not on his shoulders. It’s physically still attached, but he’s clearly mentally elsewhere. And not the bad kind either. The release is the best medicine, the unburdening of all the stuff inside is how people break free. The dogs are let inside for water and Koha heads to the detached shed. They converted that into a home gym. Calum follows behind him. He’s tired for sure, but he’s going to try and see if he can get to the bottom of this new good mood. 

“Pull up challenge?” Calum offers. 

Koha nods. “You will lose.”

“I’ve hoisted three babies for many years. I think I got this. But if you’re so confident,” Calum steps aside, waving his hand for Te Koha, “be my guest.”

Koha reaches for the bar, hops just a little to grab the bar. Koha pulls up for one, swings for the second. He gets through the seventh one before dropping from the bar. His face a little red and huffy. Calum’s got some weight on Koha. It’s bound to happen over the years, but he does his best to keep his weight down. He’s slowed on the beers. There’s not much liquor in the house because of Harlowe. Calum exhales deeply before taking more air in and then grabbing the bar. 

He pulls up, chin resting over the bar. He’s a push up guy but knows Koha’s been working to improve his pull-up strength. So here is his huffing to get past the sixth pull up. He gets up the seventh time and keeps pushing. Eight. Nine. Ten. He let’s go, feet planting to the ground. He’s still got it. Te Koha huffs, a smile lifting half his face. “Show off”

“Just mad you’re old man still got it.” Calum reaches out and squeezes Te Koha’s bicep. “You’re getting there though.”

“I mean you’re right. You’ve got some years on me. But I still think in the end, I’m going to have you beat.” Te Koha flexes. 

“I’m not sure about that,” Calum grins, flexing in return. 

“I’m polling this on Instagram.”

Calum laughs, rolling up the sleeve to his shirt. “It won’t be a fair fight. I’ve still got it with the ladies.” Calum pulls his phone from his pocket. They pose in front of the mirror, Te Koha in front of him slightly. Both flexing to show off their biceps. Calum puts a poll on the picture. Who’s got the better gains. Pops or son? 

When they enter the rest of the house, Harlowe’s sitting at the counter, pen in hand, reading over papers. Koha kisses her cheek, eying her last slice of cinnamon toast. “I made too much. Take the last one,” she hums not looking up from the page. 

“Thanks, Ma,” he grins chomping down on the slightly cold piece of bread. “Dad and I have a poll on instagram about who has the best biceps.’

Harlowe points the tip of her pen to Koha and he beams at his father. “She’s gotta say that,” Calum retorts with a smile. 

“I picked in a random direction, I swear,” she grins, finally looking up. She knows she didn’t. She picked Te Koha on purpose. “Love you Cal,” she calls out as he ascends the stairs. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he huffs. She can hear the grin in his voice. 

Once everyone is awake, Calum fixes a quick breakfast, pancakes, eggs and bacon. Nikau begs to start painting the dresser so Esha throws on an old shirt she took from Calum’s drawer many years ago and Harlowe sacrifices an old shirt of hers from when they painted the new house to put on Nikau, knowing for a fact he’ll ruin his own clothes. Esha takes charge once they’re settled into the garage. She outlines what sections needs to be painted what color. She lets Nikau paint the sides of the dresser. It requires less precision, the perfect job for a seven year old. 

“I’m going to miss you when you go,” Esha says to Te Koha. He leaves for uni soon. He won’t be too far away. Just far enough. “Who can I collude with to bring alcohol into the house?”

“You heard nothing, Nik,” Koha says with a wink. He winks back, understanding not to say a word. “I can come home on the weekends.”

“It’s just not the same, ya know. Your room will be empty,” she whispers, cleaning her brush before going back to detailing to make the top look like the song selections. 

“I know. I’ll be there for every show and every football game too. I love you guys.”

Esha holds the back of her hand to forehead. “My stars!” Koha marks her arm with the green paint on her arms. She retaliates with the white. 

“Paint the wood, not each other!” Nikau laughs. Both Esha and Te Koha eye each other before putting a mark on each of his arms. He scoffs and then swipes at Te Koha first before just barely getting Esha as she jumps out of the way. 

Calum and Harlowe can hear their laughter echoing from the garage. She sneaks to the garage door from the inside of the house. Cracking open the door, she can see her babies, covered in painting, smiles on their faces. Calum peeks over the top of her head and watches the scene too. They get about halfway done painting before calling it a day. Harlowe fixes dinner that day, lunch was a free all except Nikau who eats dinosaur nuggets and broccoli. 

Te Koha shouts at his departure that evening, hoping to avoid his mother’s spill. She shuffles down the hallway. “Don’t drink and drive, eat something, text you when I’m on my way back.”

She smiles and nods. “Is that Ken or Davon outside?”

“Davon. He’s got a meet tomorrow, so he’s not drinking.”

He waits for the hug, the kiss on the cheek. But she just smiles, arms folded against her chest. Her smile is different, a little shier than usual, as if holding something back. Te Koha’s heart hammers in his chest. She finally steps into him, kissing his cheek. “Tell Davon I said hi and next time, he can come inside.”

Te Koha nods, stepping through the door. He blinks rapidly, hands a little shaky. She must know. But he was sure he had been careful. As she settles back onto the couch into Calum’s side, he kisses the top of her head. “Think we should tell him we saw him last week with Davon at the gas station?”

Harlowe shakes her head. “No.” He knows she knows. He knows they’re okay with it; they love him all the same. But if he’s not ready to spil that secret, she will let him hold onto it. She will let him keep the secrets a teenager is supposed too. “Let him have that.”

Te Koha settles into the passenger seat of Davon’s car. He registers the kiss to his cheek but he’s still in shock. “Everything okay?” Davon asks, holding onto Koha’s hand for a moment. 

His parents know. But they won’t bring it up. They will let him have this. This is how he’ll still be a kid to them. His parents still love him; they want him to stay young. Tears are blurring his vision. “Yeah,” he sniffs. “I’m fine.”

“You’re crying baby. You sure?”

Te Koha’s laughter is inevitable. He’s sure. He’s more than sure. He’s so glad to have his mother, even in all her craziness. There’s no one else quite like her.

[echthr0s]

I don’t make a habit of posting about it and thereby adding to the fray, and I certainly don’t care to start any fights because it’s not even a matter of debate for me. but I’ve been thinking, on and off, for a while about why a few specific common attitudes amongst creatives on tumblr (not just on tumblr, I’d gather, but this is where I am so this is what I know) bother me so much, and I think it’s coming together, so I’m going to post about it for my own purposes

the attitudes are difficult to paraphrase (especially without sounding like a dick about it) but... it’s basically a combination of “only reblogs matter and likes are worthless!”, “why create if no one notices”, and “there’s a Right(tm) way to tell a story and the other ways are bad/stupid”

I understand there are many reasons why people believe these statements, and I don’t think people who believe these statements are bad/stupid. but what I do think is that these belief systems are where creativity goes to die. and the worst thing about it is that they are incredibly contagious.

[long ranty post under cut. the tl;dr is “fuck being afraid of the very thing that makes my life worth living and fuck you too”]

before recent memory, I used to just Make Shit. I feel like a lot of us did, in fact. Making Shit was fun and felt like what I was put on this earth to do (technically, you could argue that about humans in general, considering quite how much Shit we’ve Made over the course of our existence as a species). it wasn’t a contest, it wasn’t a competition, and it sure as fuck didn’t matter if Joe Q. Rando over there liked it or not. it wasn’t for Joe. it was for me. it was an act of love.

like, okay, I’m not saying it was some pure utopia or whatever. I didn’t always love Making Shit, sometimes it was hard as fuck and sometimes it felt like an uphill journey with no breaks and sometimes it just plain didn’t come out the way I wanted. sometimes I slam-dunked it in the garbage can and pretended it never happened. but, you know, it be like that sometimes. not a big deal. I just went ahead and made something else.

in recent memory, I seem to have been infected with a specific anxiety that has been permeating this website for a while -- that creation must serve a purpose. that purpose is either to gain the approval and affection of strangers, or to make money. and sure, no one likes being broke, and no one likes feeling unnoticed -- but that’s... that’s not the point. that’s not the point of Making Shit. the point of Making Shit is Making Shit. the rest is the icing and cherry on the cake, not the actual cake.

I’ve been handwringing about my lack of output after having been downright prolific years ago, and honestly, this is what it comes down to -- this stupid anxiety that “people don’t want to read about [x]” or “someone’s going to be annoying about the fact that I write about [x]” or "I am not qualified to write about [x]” or whatever. it’s stupid and it is the absolute smothering death of any creative impulse I’ve ever had. first of all, I’m not writing for y’all. people’s enjoyment of my work is delightful, but not necessary. the minute it becomes necessary is the minute I lose all agency and potential for joy. second of all, it’s not a contest or a dissertation or fucking Carnegie Hall. it ain’t that serious. it’s just storytelling. I might write a story and go “ew, actually, no, this is absolute garbo lmao”. so what? since when did that become the worst thing in the world? since when did that become worse than never writing at all? than dropping the word “storyteller” from my identity because I no longer felt worthy of it? than being so paralysed by fear that I could feel a hand squeezing around my throat every time I so much as thought about opening an Evernote document and typing a sentence?

so, like, in essence, and with all the spite and spider-venom I can muster -- fuck this pussy ass shit.

I don’t care if you all never like or reblog a single thing I write. I don’t care if no one on this website knows or cares about my OCs except, like, Sparrow. I don’t care if my stories don’t make sense to you, or don’t matter to you, or gross you out, or make you “cringe”, or aren’t the kind of stories you want to read. I don’t care about “writing rules” or “originality” or anything about the whole “only bad people write about [x]” stupid-ass childish-ass clusterfuck. I don’t even want to think about y’all when I sit down to write. my craft is between me and whatever cosmic force is propelling me when my fingers start flying across the keyboard. and if someone is like “hey, I dig that”, then gods bless them and I sure appreciate the kind words, but that’s really not the goal. there is no goal. there is only the endless act of creating -- of being a part of a hallowed tradition that has existed since humanity first stopped scratching its hairy ass and started scratching on cave walls instead. the hallowed tradition of Making Shit.

and for the record? no one owes me or you or anyone else their readership, their reblogs, their comments, or even their attention! guilt-tripping them into interaction just leads to resentment and insincerity! why would you want that? that’s pure desperation, right there. no thanks. just like I’m free to write literally whatever the fuck I want, you’re also free to completely ignore it or think it’s shit or appreciate it at your leisure. now that is true freedom *eagle cry*

if you’re thinking about being offended by this post or taking it personally or whatever (because, you know, I definitely came to your house specifically, broke down your door, and stapled this post to your cat), don’t come botherin me about it. go Make Shit and maybe you’ll feel better (I’m not even being facetious-- you probably will!)