#edit: my current day count is 17

[locked-away-dreamz03]

This is basically what It feels like when you're running a daily Tumblr blog & struggling with motivation

Day 17 of drawing Charkis until I get the Charkis plush

[astro-nomaly]

Sword and Shield (greenflower)

jfc i feel insane. i had to get this au out of my head so i wrote this first draft thing in two days anyways this is probably all i'll write at least for a while bc i don't have an actual set storyline and i really need to write tkal lmao. this is technically 2 chapters but whatever they made sense together

anyways @morroodle this is for you dude and uh sorry if this crashes anyone's browser. no cw for this. Edit 3/2/25 @highbookwormofthecentury here you go man have at it

Brad Tudabone is 17 years old – almost 18 (if ‘in seven months’ counts as ‘almost’) - and is currently climbing the tallest mountain in Ninjago.  

Now, the Realm has its fair share of mountains. The Golden Peaks of the West (the existence of which is not confirmed) in the Endless Sea are supposed to be taller than the sea is deep. Less impressively, the Shintaro Mountain range in the Southern Province stretches dozens of miles high, and the Caves of Despair are the most treacherous peaks in the world. But Brad is conquering something a little more difficult - the Mountains of Impossible Height.  

Honestly, the name was an exaggeration. It was, at best, the Mountains of Incredibly Dangerous Do Not Attempt for Fear of Death. Brad had only almost died, like, five times. And his arm was probably fractured, but whatever.  

He huddled against the cave wall, wincing as the sharp edges dug into the thin fabric of his shirt. Dammit, he should’ve brought a coat. He scowled at his fraying boots, one cold toe poking through. Should’ve brought better boots, too. Who knew climbing the world’s tallest mountain was such hard work?  

Brad was taking shelter in a small cave carved into the side of the Mountain of Impossible Height, which was a mouthful, waiting for the rain to pass. This high up, a light shower could kill him. He was already freezing.  

Brad shuffled a little closer to the small fire he had going, huffing into his hands. Next time, he would bring gloves that covered his fingers. Man, fingerless gloves looked so cool though! Though, it’s not like anyone else he knew wore them.  

To pass the time as he warmed up, Brad pulled an ancient scroll from his bag of assorted supplies, most of which he needed more of. Climbing mountains sucked.  

The scroll was fraying, yellow and browning around the edges. The thing was only a few decades old, but hadn’t been preserved well. Brad had found it only a month or two ago while poking around a half-destroyed museum, courtesy of the Oni army.  

Ugh. Brad hated the Oni. They’d shown up, what, fifty years ago?  So far, the army had been kept at bay by the holders of the Golden Weapons - weapons people didn’t know even existed - and Wu, the son of the First Spinjitzu Master – supposedly. No one knew if the god was real or not, but the dragon demigod of creation pointed to ‘yes’. The army had come out of a strange portal from the First Realm, a place no one was sure even existed before the arrival of the four-armed demons. They were led by yet another legendary figure; Garmadon, the Oni demigod of destruction and the first son of the FSM.  

There was a running theme here. Fifty years ago, several ancient legends were confirmed to be true as magic and elements were thrust into their realm. So, Brad felt confident about this legend as well.  

The Sword of Sanctuary. The scroll Brad scavenged from the museum rubble illustrated a lustrous golden sword surrounded by elegant text. The sword was, supposedly, the legendary weapon of the FSM himself, and super powerful to boot.  

It made sense, didn’t it? If demigods of creation and destruction were real, and other realms were real, and the elemental Golden Weapons then didn’t it stand to reason that the guy who made those weapons and fathered those demigods existed? If the FSM was real, then the sword was too, and that meant it could be useful.  

Everyone Brad reported his theory to – his overworked mom, his friends, the cops – laughed in his face. After fifty years of war that went almost nowhere, no matter how many dragons showed up to help, people were tired and low on hope. Every day the Oni army got closer to capturing the capital city, and if they did, they’d have easy access to the other four provinces. People needed practical solutions, not fairytales.  

But Brad knew that this wasn’t a fairytale. The sword was real, he just knew it. Was it a little presumptuous to assume that he could use it? Maybe. Brad was a normal guy – he played basketball, he gardened, and he was self-taught in using any kind of weapon. He didn’t know a single martial arts form, and his go-to for winning fights was the kick the other guy in the crotch and run. (Which, by the way, totally worked.) But even if Brad himself couldn’t use the sword, couldn’t someone else? One of the elemental masters, or even Wu? It didn’t matter who had the sword - if Brad found it, he could find someone to use it and win the fight.  

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want the sword, though. Brad hated feeling so useless all the time. His mom worked day and night to keep their apartment and put food on the table, half of which Brad grew in their own house. All his friends were either enlisted or contributing to society somehow. But Brad... didn’t really want to be in the army. Sure, fighting demons sounded cool, but he wanted adventure, not barracks and boot camp.  

If Brad found the Sword of Sanctuary, not only could the humans win the war, but Brad would be a hero.  

Besides, how cool would a magic sword be? Brad’s thinking lasers.  

He traced the thin letters around the illustration. He should, if the scroll isn’t lying to him, find some sort of temple at the top of the mountain, and the sword inside. Just like the last few days on this mountain, the scroll strengthened his resolve. He wasn’t just doing it for the adventure – though, if Ninjago weren’t in such dire straits, he would probably still do this – he was also doing it for Ninjago. For his mom, for Gene, who worked all the time trying to develop better technologies, and for all the citizens of Ninjago City who wanted just one good day.  

He tucked the scroll back into his bag, careful to make sure it wouldn’t crease or tear, and settled on his side. The rain wasn’t letting up any time soon. Might as well sleep.  

Brad dreams of Green. Not green, like the color, but Green. It’s life, it’s beauty, it’s the forest floor dappled in sunlight and the tall field grass swaying in a gentle breeze. It’s the shine of a bright grin and the adrenaline of a race. The Green is everywhere, all-consuming and shining like a star. Sheer gold peeks through the cracks, brighter than the sun itself.  

It’s crying.  

“Let me out,” the Green and Gold begs. The words don’t exist. They’re a compilation of feelings, hopes and dreams and everything else the universe can’t quantify. It’s like Brad has been granted a window into the soul of the realm itself, only to find that it was looking back.  

The words come in a melody, sweet and bright and lulling him to an even deeper sleep despite the sheer desperation leaking through.  

“LET ME OUT!” The Green and Gold screams, but Brad can only dip further into sleep.  

For the rest of the night, he dreams of darkness. 

Brad hates mountains. He’s been on this damned mountain for five days, ran out of food two days and has been random fruit since, and has no idea where he is. He briefly entertains the thought of dying up here before shaking it from his mind. He knows he’s getting closer – this mountain can’t get too much taller, can it?  

He shivers, clutching his arms as he stalks up the natural pathway. It’s overgrown and treacherous, but he’s lucky nonetheless that a path exists at all. It only supports his mission – at some point, people were here.  

“’Course, they probably had coats,” he muttered. He’s been talking to himself lately, which isn’t ideal, but whatever.  

He cut through a particularly nasty bramble patch in his way with his katana. It was an old, chipped thing, supposedly belonging to his father at some point. He didn’t have any attachment to the guy; he died before Brad was born. Still, a sword was a sword.  

Not as cool as the Sword of Sanctuary, though. 

Surprisingly, though, today seems to be a good day for Brad. For the past five days, the mountain had only gotten more and more treacherous, trying its best to kill him at every turn. He’s had to dodge wolves, evil birds, navigate horrendously narrow pathways and climb vertical cliff faces. Nothing so far has been easy – except now. The path levels out, the jagged rocks become smooth- 

Water. 

Brad laughs in disbelief. There’s a river! Oh, he’s missed water. He bends at the bank, scooping water in his mouth. It’s cold as it slides down his throat, and he drinks greedily.  

He wipes his mouth, sated, and takes another second to look around. The mountain is starting to level out, and greenery fills the area. The trees are lusher than they have any right to be, bearing fruit that definitely isn’t in season. It’s warmer now, too, which is weird so high up. The ground is crawling with bright green vines, flowering in shades of unnatural gold.  

“...huh,” he says. The Mountain of Impossible Height has been inhospitable to a fault so far. Why is it suddenly so nice? A refreshing river, fruit-bearing trees, smooth pathways?  

“Either something is horrifically wrong or terrifically right,” Brad said, adjusting the strap of his bag as he stood. He followed the path, holding his katana cautiously. But nothing came out at him. Birds literally sang in the treetops, a few does bound through the increasingly thick trees, hell, a butterfly literally landed on his nose at one point. It was as if he’d crossed a threshold.  

Brad soon came to an actual pathway, made up of cobblestone overgrown with moss. He followed the winding road, growing more and more excited as lamps began to dress the grass along the path.  

Then- a monastery.  

Brad gaped at the sight. A large red Torii gate stood before him, and further down the path, a grand monastery. It was gated by a tall solid stone fence, overgrown with flowering vines and moss. Brad whooped, running along the path until he reached the entrance, throwing the double doors open with a laugh.  

He came into a courtyard with a golden dragon statue in the middle. If he wasn’t sure of this place before, he was now. This had to be it. The home of the Sword of Sanctuary.  

He stepped forward carefully, looking around the courtyard. It was wholly abandoned and overgrown in greenery. It was beautiful, yes, but eerie as well. Like a school at midnight, or a graveyard at night. Otherworldly.  

“Hello?�� He called, just to be safe. He didn’t want to upset a possible deity or something.  

Nothing. He shrugged and poked around on the wrap-around porch. He slid open the doors inside and recoiled at the smell of dust. Yeah, this place hadn’t been touched for a while.  

He stepped inside, feeling as though he’d come into another realm entirely. Yeah, this had ‘school at midnight’ vibes. The halls were dark, lit only by the fading sunlight that shown through the aged walls and grimy windows. Every step he took made the floorboards creak and groan.  

He followed the hall, humming nervously. He poked his head in every door he came across but just found abandoned bedrooms and bathrooms. There was a large kitchen, a couch and TV – weird – and a small armory. He made his way around the entire monastery, and didn’t find anything of note.  

He sighed, flopping down on the couch. Dust rose up around him, settling on the disturbed surface.  

“Think, Tudabone,” he muttered, running a hand through his hair, pulled back by a red bandana. There had to be something here that would lead him to the sword.  

“A basement!” He exclaimed, smacking his forehead. Of course! Who would leave a mega-powerful legendary sword laying around for anyone to nab? There had to be a hidden room or basement or-  

“Or not,” he said, staring at the ceiling. Outside, he’d made note of the way the roof accommodated what seemed to be two extra rooms stacked on each other above the entrance doors, featuring round windows.  

He vaguely recalled a faint light coming from the very top window, what he’d assumed to be sunlight.  

Well, he’s looked everywhere else.  

Brad quickly ran back outside, looking up at the extra two stories, rising into a tower. The sun was going down now, but the golden light remained in the uppermost window. He grinned and looked for a way to get up to it. The stone around the double gates was crumbling, revealing convenient footholds.  

He crossed the courtyard, hauling himself up the wall until he stood on the narrow shingles, balancing carefully. He slowly put one foot in front of the other, making his way over to the wider part of the roof. When he did, he scrambled over the roof to the second story, holding the red column that supported the roof.  

Brad stretched on his toes, trying to grasp the edge of the second story’s slanted roof. He was a tall guy, but damn! When he finally got his fingers over the edge, he jumped the extra few inches to grab on with his other hand. Brad breathed heavily, swaying lightly from the roof. He grunted as he pulled himself up, using the shingles as leverage until he could awkwardly kneel on the second story roof. The third story was small, and the window was too grimy to see through. But up close, he could definitely tell that the golden light was emitting from this room.  

He fumbled with the round window, searching for a latch. The latch was on the inside, but a little jiggling got the run-down window to slowly creak open. Brad tumbled through, landing on his knees and cutting up his palm with splinters. He hissed, drawing his hand to his chest.  

Inside the room, he felt warmth as golden light bathed his body. He looked up just for his breath to catch in his throat with a gasp.  

The Sword of Sanctuary.  

Brad didn’t need to reference the scroll to know that this was the sword. It gleamed in the sunset, emitting a soft golden light from its spotless blade. The blade seemed to be painted with every color of the waning and rising sun, thrumming with light. Warmth emanated from it, bathing the room in honey. The hilt curved inward elegantly, and in the middle rested a magnificent green gem. Brad couldn’t tell if it was emerald – it seemed too ethereal to come from the earth.  

The sword was held downward by a statue. The statue was a simple androgynous person with intricately carved feathered wings draping their body like a chiton, and a crown resting upon their brow. Otherwise, they were bare. Their eyes were closed, and their expression seemed to leak with sadness as they clutched the sword by the hilt.  

Brad stepped forward, enraptured by the sight of the sword. The green gem, originally inactive, pulsed and light up with light like it had sensed him. Brad stopped, holding his breath. The gem simply continued to glow.  

“Right, right,” Brad whispered, strangely short of breath, “watch out for boobytraps.” He looked around for tripwires or plates but found nothing. The walls were decorated with woven tapestries of the Golden Weapons, and behind the statue on either side were an Oni and a dragon. Otherwise, the room was empty.  

Okay. No boobytraps – maybe it was a test of character? He’d seen books like that.  

“Hey... sword,” he said, feeling a little dumb, “I’m not going to use you for, like, evil. I’m here to save people, so please don’t kill me.” 

He left his katana and satchel on the floor, slowly walking toward the statue. The green gem, somehow demanding more attention than the ethereal blade, thrummed in time with his footsteps, glowing brighter as he got closer. He hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.  

Brad hesitated, reaching for the sword. His hand curled, hesitant, before he used both hands to grab the sword by the curling hilt. The second he laid hands on it, the sword lit up even brighter, shining brighter than the sun.  

Brad shut his eyes against the onslaught of light, grunting, but didn’t let go. The sword was hot, now, but it wasn’t painful. It was like a melty cookie, or a space heater – warm, comforting, soft.  

He squinted, and tugged. The statue’s hands held the sword tightly. Brad braced his feet, trying to adjust for more leverage. “Come on,” he said, tugging again. “Please,” he whispered, “I need you.” 

With each increasingly hard tug, the sword somehow became brighter and brighter. It was audibly humming now, filling the air with a strangely familiar melody. The smell of flowers filled the air, wafting in the dusty room. Wind ruffled the tapestries as Brad pulled at the sword harder and harder.  

He grit his teeth, tightened his hold, and pulled as hard as he possibly could.  

The stone hands around the sword cracked and fell, releasing the sword. With one final burst of light, the sword fell forward, and Brad toppled from the momentum of his pull.  

He stumbled back, breathing heavily, as the sword dimmed, slowly ceasing the thrumming and humming. The wind died down, and the scent of flowers settled with the dust.  

Brad stared down at the sword, its blade gleaming like new, breathless. He laughed, little bursts falling from his mouth. “I did it,” he whispered, disbelieving, “I did it! I got the sword!” 

The winged statue crumbled to pieces. Brad flinched, jumping back, as the stone fell away in chunks. “Ooh,” he winced, “that’s... that’s not a great sign.” 

He waited for something else to happen, but nothing did.  

“...huh. Okay." He looked down at the sword. “You're not going to disintegrate me, right? We’re chill?” The sword did not respond.  

He grinned, readjusting his grip to hold the actual handle. He noticed, belatedly, that the pommel is a second, smaller green gem encased in gold. He holds the sword up high, tilting it back and forth to catch the fading light.  

“Heh,” he laughs, swinging it in a slow arc through the air. He hears an audible swish, and laughs again. He feels so cool! Him, regular old Brad Tudabone, wielding the legendary Sword of Sanctuary with ease! He even feels stronger for it, like he could sprint a hundred miles or punch straight through a mountain. “This is so cool,” he says, cutting another arc through the air. He twirls the sword, taking it the way the light creates a kaleidoscope.  

Brad wonders what the sword can really do. Does it shoot lasers? Is it telekinetic, somehow? Or- ooh, he saw an anime where the sword duplicated itself once, that would epic. He traces the blade reverently, imagining everything the sword could possibly accomplish against the Oni. He notices soft green vines, thin and fragile, curling up from the golden hilt against the sunset blade. He smiles.  

“I bet someone was real lucky to have this,” he thinks aloud, “you’re going to help so many people, y’know. Ugh, I wish you could talk. I want to know everything.”  

As if he’s said some kind of code word, the blade begins to shudder. Brad makes a startled noise, holding the sword at arm's length. The green gem begins to glow brighter than ever, thrumming violently. The blade itself warps, the previously soft hues becoming eye-scorching shades of burning violets and yellows. Brad feels nauseous just looking at it, but he can’t seem to let go.  

“No, no, no-” he gasps, arms shaking from the strain as the sword grows more violent by the second, “please, stop, no, no, no-” he begs, but the sword isn’t listening anymore. It’s gone from elegant and soft to nauseating as colors blend into each other. The hilt itself begins to warp, curling inward as the metal melts into itself. Glowing cracks emanate from the green gem as bright, scorching cracks appear in the sword. Brad gasps, frantically shaking the sword as if he can make it stop.  

Then light like a flashbang overtakes the entire room, blinding Brad, and he falls on his butt.  

Brad comes to slowly, still blinking rainbow spots out of his eyes. He’s pinned to the floor by something on his stomach and legs, and quickly realizes that the weight is moving. He rubs his eyes, propping his upper half up.  

There is a person on his lap.  

Brad gapes, once again speechless. By now, the moon is up, framing the person in a halo of cold light that only accentuates the sheer warmth leaking off of them. They have long golden hair that curls down to their shoulders, fluffy and soft and shining. A light gold and green diadem rests on their head, secured in their thick hair. They’re dressed in a white, sleeveless sort of shirt, ruffled and flowing at the end. The top folds over their shoulders, lined in green and tiny little emerald gemstones. Their legs are covered by a long white cloth that’s secured by another silky material with a gold chain. Their legs are otherwise bare and freckled. Their skin is a soft tan, golden in the moonlight.  

They’re really, really cute. And they’re on Brad’s lap.  

Okay Tudabone, don’t mess this up.  

The person groans softly, face twitching. Their eyelashes are as golden as their hair, and underneath their eyes are soft golden markings, curly and elegant. He can respect the color scheme.  

Brad watches as their eyes flutter open, confused and dazed. Their irises are a beautiful emerald green, shining in every shade Brad can think of. Their pupils are shaped like miniature twinkling stars, again golden. Golden pupils – strange. As they slowly adjust, making confused noises, their pointed ears twitch rapidly.  

That’s really cute, Brad thinks, face hot.  

They seem to realize that they’re sitting on Brad, and stare up at him with giant green doe eyes. Brad’s face gets even hotter the longer they make eye contact.  

“...hi,” they whisper softly. Their voice is oddly familiar, like a melody he’s heard before.  

He swallows thickly. “Hi,” he responds softly, not willing to break the strange spell over the room.  

The blonde looks around, and they don’t seem to recognize their surroundings. “Wh- who- where-” they mutter, and Brad starts to get concerned. He holds them by the arms gently, trying to corral them up off of him.  

“Are you okay?” He asks. The person nods vaguely, slowly wobbling to their feet. Brad notices that their feet are bare with a grimace. They could easily cut their skin on splinters.  

They stare down at their own freckled hands, inspecting their skin. Now that Brad’s had a few seconds to get his bearings, he’s getting really freaked out. Ten seconds ago, he was holding the Sword of Sanctuary when it suddenly began warping and glowing. Now there’s a blonde person dressed in oddly ancient-looking clothes, acting as if they've never seen their own hands before.  

“Hey, are you okay?” He asks again, because he might be freaked out, but this person is obviously not okay. They hum, twisting around to look at him with those giant green eyes. They’re practically glowing in the moonlight.  

“Where are we?" They ask. Brad blinks, surprised.  

“The- the Mountain of Impossible Height. Seriously, are you feeling alright? You seem confused.” 

They touch their forehead, eyes shutting like they’ve encountered a sudden headache. It draws Brad’s attention to the strange golden tattoo imprinted on their forehead like a little tiara.  

“How- who are you?” They demand.  

“Brad,” he answers gently. “Look, I don’t mean to push, but twenty seconds ago I was holding a magic sword. Now you’re here. Where did you come from?” 

“A sword?” They’re suddenly staring at him with intensity. “What do you know about the sword?”  

Brad holds his hands up, trying to calm them. “Hey, I just found it here. It freaked out and boom, here you are. I’m just as confused as you. Here, look.” Brad scooped his bag off the floor, brandishing the worn scroll to the stranger. “Look, this is what I was looking for.” 

They snatch the scroll, eyes raking over it. “...does anyone else know about this?”  

“No, no one else believed me. Why? Really, you just came out of no... where...” Brad trails off slowly. The sword was golden, inlaid with green gemstones that seemed to come from the stars themselves.  

This person speaks with a melodious voice, just as soft and ethereal as the sword. They’re dressed in white, yes, but marked with golden tattoos. Their eyes are such a pure, glittering green that Brad can’t stand to look at them for too long.  

His eyes inadvertently lock onto their chest. Two sparkling green gemstones are imbedded in their skin, softly thrumming.  

“You’re the sword,” he says dumbly.  

They stiffen, eyes wild like a deer in headlights. The two stare at one another, frozen. The blonde – the Sword of Sanctuary who is a person – goes from a terrified stare to a glare. “What do you know about this?” They demand, waving the scroll at Brad. “Why did you come looking for me?” 

“I just found it!” Brad defended, “I was looking for the sword- for you because you’re supposed to be really powerful! Look, you belonged to the First Master, right?” 

“I don’t belong to anyone,” they snarled. Brad nodded.  

“Okay, okay. But still, you’re all about justice and whatnot, right? Look, there’s this huge Oni army, and they’re hurting people. I came looking for you because you were supposed to help.” 

“Oni army?” They ask, their gaze intense.  

Brad nodded. “Yeah, and they’re close to taking over Ninjago City. Can’t you do anything?” 

They hum, tapping the parchment. “How long has it been?” 

“What?” 

“How long has the army been in Ninjago?” 

“Oh,” Brad hummed, “about... fifty years, give or take. It’s been a while.” 

Their eyes grow huge, pupils shrinking. “Fifty years?!” They cry, their harsh grip creasing the scroll. Brad nodded, confused. They clutch at their hair, breaths suddenly coming in sharp gasps. “It’s been fifty years?!” They whisper to themself.  

Brad steps forward, but they recoil as if he’d threatened them with a knife. “Don’t touch me!” They shriek. Brad freezes as they shake in place. Tears begin to grow in their eyes, and their shoulders fall as their face crumples.  

“Fifty years...” they mumble, holding their face in their hand.  

“Have... have you been in that sword this entire time?” Brad asks incredulously. “Why?” 

They shake their head. “I didn’t have a choice,” they mumble miserably, shoulders shaking.  

Brad makes an affronted noise. “Somebody did that to you? Why?! Did you do something evil?” 

“No, I’m not evil!” 

“Then I’ll punch them in the face,” Brad decided, punching his fist into his palm and looking around like the culprit would suddenly appear.  

They let out a startled laugh through tears. “Y-you definitely can’t do that,” they say, wiping their eyes. Brad scoffs.  

“Yeah? Why not?” 

“He’d probably kill you,” they mutter. Their expression crumbles all over again, misery etching their face. “Fifty years...” they mumble, sniffling. “And nobody came for me. Not my uncle... not my brothers and sister... nobody except you.” 

Brad grimaced. “...I do my best?” 

They make a sound between a laugh and a sob. “I-I’m sorry. Brad, right? You probably want an explanation.” 

He shakes his head, reaching out tentatively. When they don’t freak out again, he rests his hand on their arm. “It’s okay,” he says, “you’re upset. You don’t have to explain anything. Actually, I can just fuck off if I’m stressing you out-” 

They shake their head, wiping away any lingering tears. “It’s okay. You came all this way.” 

“Well... okay,” Brad pulls them to the floor so they can sit down. He lets go of their arm once he’s sure they’re not going to topple over. “So, how are you a sword? Or, I guess, how is a sword a person. Which came first, the person or the sword?” 

They shake their head, mixed between amusement and that ever-present misery. “It’s not like that,” they say, “I wasn’t always a sword. I used to be a person.” 

“Oh,” Brad says, “so someone turned you into a sword. But if the sword belonged to that Spinjitzu guy, shouldn’t you be... older?” 

“Nice to know I look young,” they joke. “But yeah, I’m only sixteen. I wasn’t turned into a sword so much as I was fused with it. Like a curse, kind of.” 

Brad nodded. So, this person, whoever they were, was fused with the FSM’s sword? Why the hell would anyone do that just to leave them in some dusty monastery? “Well, if you’re a person first, what’s your name?” Brad asks, tired of not knowing. They blink, surprised, like they hadn’t conceived that Brad would care to ask for a name.  

“...Lloyd Garmadon.” 

Brad gaped. “Garmadon? As in Emperor Garmadon?!” 

Lloyd made a face. “Is that what he’s calling himself? Ugh, my dad is cringy. Yes, I’m the son of Garmadon. He’s... actually the one that fused me with the sword.” 

“His own son? That’s- really fucked up,” Brad didn’t even know how to react. Who does that to their own kid? Was it some sort of twisted immortal being punishment? What could Lloyd have possibly done? 

Lloyd drew his knees up to his chest, resting his head in the soft white fabric of his tunic. “It’s complicated,” he mumbled, picking at the fine golden threads lining his clothes. “My dad was banished to the First Realm when I was four after he tried to steal the Golden Weapons. I grew up with my uncle and his students, the elemental masters. I became the Green Ninja when I was fourteen, and Garmadon returned when I was sixteen.”  

“You were a ninja? What’s your element?” Brad leaned forward.  

Lloyd smiled wistfully. “The Green element.” 

“What... what is that.” 

He laughed, and Brad blushed at the sound. “I can’t explain it to you. The words don’t exist in a language mortals can comprehend. The closest thing is... energy. The energy within everything.” 

“Wow,” Brad breathed, “it must’ve been epic.” 

“It was,” Lloyd agreed, “it was incredible.” 

Brad hummed, picking at the floor. “If you were so powerful, though, how did Garmadon... swordify? Is that the term? How’d he swordify you?” 

Lloyd’s face spasmed in a mix of embarrassment and regret. “It was my fault,” he mumbled, eyes downcast, “Uncle Wu didn’t want me to fight him. He wanted me kept far away from Garmadon. But after months of no progress, I... I confronted him. I thought I could get him to listen. Instead, he put me in a sword.” 

“But... how?” 

“I was stupid,” Lloyd said, “I refused to fight him. I let myself get tricked, and he... it doesn’t matter,” Lloyd fiercely wiped at his face, erasing any sign of tears before they could appear. “M-my uncle saved me, that’s the point. He stole me back, and changed the curse. Uncle Wu made sure that nobody could use the Green Element, and so long as I’m here, I have free will.”  

Brad’s face screwed up, confused. “Free will? What does that mean?”  

Lloyd’s expression spasmed again, and he stared at the floor, eyebrows furrowed. “I- okay. My father turned me into a sword to use my element. When he did, he stripped away my free will. Basically, whoever picks me up as a sword becomes my wielder, and they control whether I’m human. I physically can’t disobey them.” 

Brad struggled to wrap his head around it. “Like... Ella Enchanted?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“That movie! The girl has to obey everyone, and can’t say no. Like, the stepsisters-” 

Lloyd let out a dry laugh, sniffling. “Actually, yes. Except only my wielder controls me, and they turn me into a sword. I can’t switch by myself.” 

Brad snapped his fingers, “hey, doesn’t that mean that your uncle was your last wielder? Why’d he leave you like this? What a dick.” 

Lloyd shook with laughter. “Good question. Maybe he wanted to protect me, or make sure I didn’t run away again. Not that I could. If I get too far away from a wielder, I just turn back into a sword.” 

“Speaking from experience?” 

Lloyd bit his lip and nodded. Brad scoffed. “I’m going to punch Garmadon in the face.” 

“Good luck with that,” Lloyd said, smoothing out the creases in his tunic. “I, for one, would love to punch my father.” 

Lloyd’s words gave Brad a sudden idea, and he shot to his feet, pacing back and forth. Lloyd watched him from the floor, somewhat wary, but Brad was too caught up in his head.  

“That’s it,” he muttered, running a hand through his disheveled hair, “wait, that’s it!” 

“What is? Punching Garmadon? I’m all for it, but-” 

“No- well, yes, but no,” Brad turned back to Lloyd, who’s head was tilted to the side in confusion. Brad blushed briefly at the sight, before shaking it away. “Lloyd, I’m your new wielder, right? I picked you up, I think I made you human-” 

“It doesn’t work in here,” Lloyd snapped defensively, crossing his arms over himself protectively. “You can’t order me around in the monastery, and I’ll kick your ass if you try.” 

“No!” Brad waved his hands, “No, I wouldn’t do that! I mean, if I’m your wielder, and someone can only control you if they pick you up as a sword, what if I just never turn you into a sword? Loophole!” 

“For what?” Lloyd asked, exasperated. Brad grinned.  

“If no one – especially Garmadon – can ever steal you, then you’re free to use your element without anyone controlling you! I get that you can’t get too far away from me – so we’ll stick together. I’ll take you to Ninjago City, and you’ll kick Garmadon’s ass with your epic element! I can cheer you on in the background, it’ll be great!” 

Lloyd’s eyes grew big as his face went straight back to miserable. “I- I can’t.” He hugged his legs to his chest, looking at anything but Brad as if he was ashamed. Brad deflated, staring down at him.  

“But... why? You’re a ninja, aren’t you? Isn’t fighting evil emperors your whole thing?” 

“No, I can’t use my element,” Lloyd corrected in a small voice. “My element was sealed away in the sword. And since Uncle Wu made it so that nobody could use my element, that means that the Green Element is gone. Nobody, not even me, can use it anymore. I can’t even do Spinjitzu.” 

Brad’s shoulders fell as his excitement flew out of him. “...oh. Well, that sucks.” 

Brad sat back down across from Lloyd, who was curled into himself as if he could hide in the white swathes of clothing. Brad felt kind of silly, now. Like, no duh! Why would an evil warlord leave his prisoner’s power unchained?  

Lloyd sniffled. “I’m sorry, Brad,” he said quietly. “I wish I could help. But I- I can’t leave and let people use me. I can’t just give up my body so people can swing me around and kill people with me. I just...” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Brad said, scooting closer to Lloyd. He laid a hand on Lloyd’s freckled shoulder, and froze when Lloyd fell into him, leaning on his side. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arm around the demigod, letting Lloyd leach off of his warmth. Lloyd himself was warm to the touch, and Brad’s skin reflected the glow, ever so faint. 

Brad sighed. He was fucked, wasn’t he? Well, at least this wasn’t for nothing. He looked down at Lloyd, and let a smile cross his face. At least Lloyd wouldn’t have to be trapped inside of that sword forever.  

“We might still win anyways,” he mused aloud, mostly just to fill the silence, “I mean, dragons show up all the time to help out, and we still have the Golden Weapons. We’ll be fine.” 

Lloyd hummed, tracing the wood of the floor idly. “Still... I hate to let you down.” 

“No let down here! I came here for a sword and found a friend. Uh... are we friends?” 

Lloyd turned his face up to smile at Brad, green eyes crinkling. The tattoo on his forehead glowed briefly, like Lloyd’s smile couldn’t be contained to his mouth. “Yeah,” he said, “we’re friends.” 

Brad’s face grew hot, and he coughed, looking away before he spontaneously combusted. Lloyd didn’t seem to notice, and drew himself up, dusting off his tunic.  

“Hey, I know I’ve been kind of disappointing-” 

“Not at all!” Brad jumped to his feet, and immediately felt stupid for yelling. Lloyd froze, eyes wide, before he laughed, a light blush covering his cheeks.  

“Anyways. Stay for a while? It’s lonely up here.” 

Brad hesitated. He’d left his mom, who was surely wondering where the hell he was, and Gene was probably worried as well. But looking at Lloyd’s hopeful expression, he couldn’t say no.  

“Sure. You have a garden?” 

Lloyd’s bright golden smile made it all worth it.  

Lloyd led him through the monastery, introducing him to a bedroom that once belonged to Cole Brookstone, the Master of Earth. Brad was astounded to learn how long Elemental Masters truly lived – the same ones Lloyd grew up with over 60 years ago were still kicking, wiping Oni ass.  

“Sorry for the mess,” Lloyd said, gathering the dusty comforter up, “ugh, I hope the washer still works.” 

Brad chuckled, shaking dust off of the pillows. “We’ve got some cleaning ahead of us. I can start on laundry.” 

Lloyd seemed surprised at the offer, before his eyes crinkled in a smile as the little gemstones imbedded in his chest glowed, twinkling like happy little stars. Brad couldn’t help the pink that spread across his cheeks. Man, if Lloyd continued smiling at him like that, Brad thinks he would do anything for him.  

Oh wow, he was whipped. Gene was going to make so much fun of him.  

That is, essentially, how Brad spends the next several days. He and Lloyd unearth ancient cleaning supplies and do their best tackling the dust and grime settled over the monastery. Lloyd, surprisingly adept with technology, tackles the appliances and power while Brad curb stomps the overgrown garden into submission. They both spend hours in the sun and crisp breeze cleaning the courtyard, and every night they do dishes together.  

Just two weeks ago, Brad was adrift. He didn’t know what he wanted from life – just that he wanted more. Now he spends his days in a monastery on the world’s tallest mountain with the oddest boy he’s ever met, and it’s the happiest he’s ever been.  

Lloyd is funny. He’s wry, and sharp, and through his hesitance is cheeky humor that Brad can’t help but find endlessly endearing, even when it’s used to dump buckets of water over his head.  

Somehow, Lloyd Garmadon has made this one of the best weeks of his life.  

Even if he has to leave soon.  

Brad splayed over a sofa in the library, idly flicking through scrolls and books. Lloyd was in the courtyard practicing katas and what Brad thinks might be Spinjitzu – minus the magic tornado.  

His thoughts are all over the place. On the one hand, he has to go. His mom and Gene will be worried, and he hates worrying them. On the other, all Brad wants is an adventure. Lloyd is quickly becoming a close friend, despite them not really sharing that much about themselves. Brad is just so easily drawn to him – or maybe that’s his raging ‘cute boy’ radar.  

He groaned, staring at the ceiling. If he left, he’d be doing more than leaving behind a close friend – he'd be leaving Lloyd all alone. In fifty years, Brad was the only person to come up here. Who would Lloyd talk to about Starfarer, or beat in Mario Kart, or do the dishes with? He’d be up on this tall mountain all alone.  

He wished there was a way to give Lloyd freedom. He saw the way the demigod looked at into the distance sometimes – like there was nothing he wanted more than to run out of this monastery as fast as possible and never look back.  

“I’m so punching Garmadon,” Brad grumbled, picking up the random scrolls he’d been looking through. Boring stuff, honestly. As he was setting them back in their respective nooks, his eye caught on one, seemingly disturbed. Curiously, he unfurled it.  

A sketch, done in quick, fluid pencil, of the four Golden Weapons. Those things were old news, but what interested Brad was the Sword of Sanctuary in the middle. His eyes roved over the words, and startled as he made out the characters spelling Lloyd’s name.  

“Holy shit,” he whispered, rereading the text in astonishment. He laughed, bouncing in place. “Lloyd! Lloyd, holy shit!” 

A few seconds later, the doors to the library slammed open, and Lloyd burst through the door with his fists up. He deflated when he saw Brad with the scroll.  

“Is... something wrong?” Brad grinned, holding out the scroll.  

“Lloyd, you’ve got to see this. It’s the solution!” 

Lloyd took the scroll, reading carefully. His eyes widened the more he read, clutching the scroll tightly. “This... oh, grandfather.” 

Brad grabbed Lloyd’s wrists, causing the blonde to look up at him. “Lloyd,” he breathed, “this is our answer. We can cure your curse and beat Garmadon.” 

“The Golden Weapons... can break the curse,” Lloyd whispered. A small, hesitant smile grew on his face as hope shined in his eyes. “They- they can get me out of the sword.” 

Hypothetically. The scroll was vague, and seemingly all hypotheticals, but it was hope. Hope for Lloyd, and Ninjago.  

Brad held Lloyd’s hands to his chest. “Then let’s go get them,” he urged. Lloyd shrunk away a bit.  

“But if I leave...” 

“Lloyd, please,” Brad begged. “I’m your wielder, aren’t I? Well, I promise, I will never make you shift. I won’t ever order you around, and I won’t ever ignore you if you don’t want to do something.” 

“But...”  

Lloyd was terrified of losing his free will. From his perspective, Brad could be lying. His words didn’t mean much when they’d known each other for a week.  

“Do you really want to wait around for your uncle to do it?” Brad pressed, desperate. He felt bad for pressuring Lloyd, but he also knew that if they could make this work, then Ninjago would be safe. “Lloyd, we can do this, can’t we? One kickass demigod and a swordsman!” 

Lloyd gave him an unimpressed look. “Are you even trained?” 

“I am... self-taught.” 

Lloyd drew back, staring down at the scroll. Brad sighed, and retracted his hands. “I won’t make you,” he said softly, “If you really don’t want to, then I won’t try to make you. But don’t you want to be free?” 

“And how do I know you won’t just turn me into a sword the second I step out that door?” Lloyd demanded. His voice cracked. “It’s what anyone would do! I- I'm not even a person to you.” 

Brad crossed his arms. “Okay, rude.” 

“What?” 

“Rude! Man, when I have acted like you’re not a person? I mean, you’re a mega powerful demigod, but that’s different than ‘not a person’. I mean it, Lloyd – I won’t force you to do anything.” 

Lloyd furrowed his brows. “I make a pretty kickass sword,” he warned, “you’ll be very sorely tempted. Not to mention all the people that will be after me.” 

“They can’t do anything to you,” Brad reminded with a smile, “not if I never turn you into a sword. Which I won’t, because you’re my friend.” 

Lloyd hummed thoughtfully. “...I’ve been wanting to kick my dad’s ass for a while,” he muttered vindictively.  

“Come on,” Brad said, “adventure of a lifetime!” 

“We’ll have to cross the entire continent.” 

“Road trip!” 

“We’ll be facing down my father’s worst soldiers, and neither of us have powers.” 

“We’ll be crafty. You’re a ninja, aren’t you?” 

Lloyd hesitated, and Brad could tell he was on the precipice. He softened his gaze. “Lloyd,” he said quietly, “you could wait for someone else to come along and free you... or you can free yourself.” 

“Why?” Lloyd muttered. He seemed genuinely curious. “Why risk your life for me like this? You realize that you’ll be in constant danger.” 

“Dude, why wouldn’t I? We break your curse, you get your powers back, and boom! Garmadon defeated, Ninjago saved. Besides,” he blushed, “an adventure? With you? Sign me up.” 

Lloyd fell quiet, his green eyes calculating. The gemstones on his chest betrayed his growing excitement as they began to light up, thrumming with their own melody.  

“Okay,” Lloyd breathed, his eyes brighter than Brad had ever seen them. The sight took his breath away.  

“Okay?” He said. Lloyd nodded vigorously, bouncing in excitement.  

“Yes! Let’s do it!”  

Brad laughed, tackling Lloyd in a hug. The shorter blonde startled, letting out a surprised laugh.  

“I am,” Lloyd said when they pulled away, “so ready to leave this monastery.” 

They find themselves, hours later, at the gate of the monastery. Brad shoulders the bulk of the bags, full to the brim with clothes and food they’d hurriedly packed. They were both itching to get out now. Maybe Brad hadn’t thought this over enough – but how could he deny the chance to stop the Oni army? How could he pass up such a big adventure?  

Lloyd hesitated on the steps, just within the boundaries of the monastery. Brad wordlessly held out his hand for Lloyd to take, smiling softly.  

Lloyd looked down at him, framed by the sunlight shining through his golden hair like a halo. He took a deep, shuddery breath, and grabbed the hand.  

[lucifertheanalyzer]

Would it be unfair to say it seems like Helluva Boss is nothing but a Hazbin leftovers dump (with stuff like Exes and Ohs being a retool from one of the pitch bible comics) and merch brand more than anything now? Feels like Hazbin's gone up since it launched while Helluva's has plummeted and the merchandising of it has gotten more desperate and cheap

Helluva being the dumping ground for scrap Hazbin ideas is not far from the truth. Helluva was not planned, originally Blitz and Mooxie were a part of Hazbin.

The multiple back-to-back merch drops screams 'let's milk this before it is too late'. The views have drop dramatically. Episode 8 to 12 have yet to reach 20 million views. Ghostfuckers is currently the worst performing episode. I have screenshots of EP8 and 9's view counts from back in July and it took eight months for both episodes to reach 17 million views.

More and more people are losing interest in Helluva due to Stolas/Blitz being the main focus for multiple episodes. The show is supposed to be about Blitz's relationships with others but that fuck ass owl is priority. In S2, episode 1, 2, 4, 8, 9, 11, and 12 is about Blitz/Stolas. I think S3EP1 is going to be the breaking point for someone. I am still mix if I am going to watch the season 3 because the show became boring in the latter half. I was dragging my feet to watch the episodes after Apology Tour and the shorts did not interest me.

Onto the merch, SR is just making too much stuff in short amount of time, there is still 'limited edition/stock* available for purchase. They should just stick to merch around new episodes, V-Day for the horny fans, Summer, and Halloween merch. The quantity control is pure ass too and it is not a recent issue. During my daily eBay bowering, I found listings for the Pride playmat from 2024 and the seller received it when errors. Customers should receive A grade products when pre-ordering, B grade and C grade products should be sold at a discount. If small fan shops can do it, why cannot a big production product do it?

Stylishoccult is expensive fast fashion. Like I am not paying $95+tax for a single jacket. I can get four outfits from discount store for that price and still have money left over. It would be different if the jacket was reversible or something. I can give the site credit though; its layout is way better than SR and has this fun interactive element to promote those cheap looking plushies. Look at them go!! 😊

[kifflepiffles]

Milk, Flour, and Sugar.

(Pssst, @albaricomics Thank you for giving me motivation, I really enjoyed writing this <3 )

Our goobers deserve a break

Francis Mosses x Nacha Mikaelys

Content warning; Suggestive themes towards the end, but nothing actually happens

Word count; 1.9k

Edit: I forgot my tumblr posts tend to get traction ^^; this takes place in a universe that assumes a headcanon for Francis, Nacha, and Ana that I wrote in great detail. It's in my top posts, but it's a but wordy, so TL;DR for context:

- Francis and Nacha are highschool sweethearts who were kicked out of their homes once the pregnancy was discovered.

- They dropped out of school and started working. They moved into the apartments where the game takes place

- They are 17 and 18 when this fic takes place.

- Nacha has a part time job as a store clerk while taking culinary classes.

- this takes place before Francis took his milkman job. Currently, Francis works night shift at a steel factory, both because night shift pays extra so he can support himself and help Nacha, and because the alternating schedule makes it easier to have someone constantly caring for Anastacia while she's an infant

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A soft breeze had flowed through the open kitchen window. Leaning back against the counter, Francis held this daughter in his arms, sitting her up against his shoulder and holding a glass bottle to the infant’s mouth. She had turned 7 months old about a week ago. Yet her parents still couldn’t get enough of her. The young man’s head tilted back, gazing at the ceiling he had freshly painted a white coat over so he could get a discount on rent. For the first time all day, A gentle smile cracked his stoic face,

“Fill my heart with song,” He hummed to his daughter, letting his heavy eyes softly close “And let me sing forever more,” His body gently swayed to the rhythm he set, rocking Anastacha as she drank, 

“You are all I long for … All I worship and…” Francis’s head tilted back down as his eyes fluttered open. Ana had pushed his hand away. Noticing the bottle still had some formula left, he directed it back towards her mouth. She had pushed him away again, this time with an angry yell, causing him to jump a bit. Not even a year old, and yet she was growing remnants of her independence. The young father chuckled, 

“Alright, you insist,” He hummed as he placed the bottle on the counter behind him and took his daughter into both hands. He raised her above his head, admiring his little creation. 

“You’re going to be a fiery one, Mm?  I can already feel it,” He cooed dreamily, watching his little girl babble and look around the kitchen. Though his trance had been interrupted by knocking on the door.

Francis looked in the direction of the knocking as he lowered Ana back into his arms, “Looks like Mommy’s back,” He narrated to her mindlessly as he walked over to the front door and glanced through the peephole to ensure it was her. 

The energy had shifted once Francis opened the door for his ex, stepping aside to let her in,

“Hey,” He greeted dryly, clearing his throat and fixing his posture,

“Hi,” Nacha greeted back as she stepped in. Ana leaned forward, reaching out for her mother with an exclamation, making her smile. “Hi, my baby,” she hummed. Francis leaned over to allow Nacha to take their daughter from him. “How was she today?”

“Good, we slept for about two hours, and I just fed her. She’s getting sassy,” He reported, making Nacha giggle,

 “Is she?” She asked turning to their baby, “Are you getting sassy Ana? Is Ana being sassy?” She cooed, tickling her and blowing a raspberry into her cheek, making the infant squeal with excitement and both parents laugh. A glimpse of the joyous family life they have both been promised all their young lives. But it soon faded, and it was silent once again. 

The two stood across from each other, their heads tilted down to avoid eye contact. Anxious, awkward.

“Well…” Nacha began, turning a bit to excuse herself. Another evening of potential had failed. But instead, Francis cleared his throat again and shut the door.

“Mm, How was work? …Class? Work and Class? … Uh, Could… may I  get you anything to drink?” He stuttered out. Nacha lifted her head and softly smiled, A bittersweet sting flooding her chest. 

`”It was alright, some water would be lovely,” She answered. Taking it as an invitation to stay, she timidly sat on the couch, gently bouncing Anastacha in her arm while Francis sauntered to the next room over. A sigh left Nacha’s lips before she gently set her baby down on the floor. The living room was cluttered with stuffed animals and teething toys. Their situation was unfortunate, but seeing her ex take such diligent care of their daughter sparked something back to life within her. For the first time since they were in school, her heart was fluttering. He made her feel excited and full of life. 

It was a matter of seconds for Francis to come back with a full glass for Nacha, and a mug of coffee for himself. He stopped right outside the narrow kitchen archway, allowing the infant to slowly and unsteadily crawl past him. She was still getting used to being mobile. 

“Mm, The traffic, they really should put a stop sign here,” He quipped as he set their drinks down on the coffee table, hoping he could make Nacha laugh.  He had gotten what he hoped for, the young lady began giggling, and a small flash of satisfaction illuminated the dullness within him for a moment while he sat down beside her. 

Silence, again. It was a common occurrence for the both of them. At first, it was to keep the peace. Now, it was because both of them had racing thoughts, they were on the same page but didn’t know it yet. Taking a sip from her water, Nacha cleared her throat and took a gentle breath

:”So… How’s the factory treating you? I imagine the night shift must be rough,” She asked. Francis shrugged and took a sip of his coffee,

“It’s alright,” He started, groaning as reached his arms up to stretch his shoulders, “Mmm, Tiring. but we get a good amount of downtime. Not like anyone’s up to watch us,” He concluded before leaning back and grabbing his mug from off the table. Nacha looked down at the floor and let a coy smile crack her expression,

“I suppose that’s nice,” She hummed, glancing back at him, “Are you free this weekend? I was thinking we could maybe go out somewhere,” She suggested, receiving a double take and a raised brow from Francis,

“Really?” He asked, sounding genuinely surprised before Nacha reached a hand out with wide eyes, her head shaking with embarrassment, “Uh-! For Ana, maybe we could head out to the park or something with her,” She added, making Franicis lean back and hum. She could’ve sworn she saw a hint of a gloom scowl on his face. She shook the thought and shifted in discomfort. It’s done, She thought, It’s been. We weren’t meant to be. That’s okay, She attempted to console to herself, biting back burning tears in her cheeks, threatening to make the evening even more uncomfortable than it already was

“I mean, mm, I wouldn’t… really mind spending some time with you. Especially with Anastacha. I say we do it. We can do it on Saturday maybe,” He suggested. Nacha looked back at him with a beaming smile.

“Oh, really? That’s great honey,” She gleamed. Francis glanced away with a scoff and rubbed the back of his neck. It was a slip up, he knew it was. But he couldn’t help but take it to heart.

“Uh, heh, yeah,” He started, his voice cracking with an anxious blush forming on his face, “I’m sure it will be. It’s a plan,”

feeling the discomfort radiate off of Francis made Nacha dizzy with embarrassment. This is my sign to leave. You got what you wanted, anyway. She thought, rubbing her own shoulder and clearing her throat.

“Well, I should get going,” She stated as she stood up, straightening out her skirt, “You have work soon. And… you need your sleep,” She was in a bit of a hurry to leave as she walked towards Ana, “Come here baby,” She whispered as she lifted her daughter into her arms. Francis stood up as well, nodding 

“Alright,” He stated rather flatly. Part of him didn’t want her to leave. The other part begged her to. He walked over to the door, waiting for her to follow and opening it for her as she approached. 

“... Bye Francis,” Nacha greeted hesitantly. But before she could walk out the door, Francis’s hand was on her cheek. And before she could think about it, His lips gently landed on hers. Just for a moment, just to say goodbye, it couldn't hurt. He pulled back after a moment and gazed at his ex, who’s eyes seemed to be glistening with tears.

“Oh,, Francis…” Nacha whispered. She gently placed Ana back down on the floor, letting her crawl back to her toys, and carefully pushed the door closed again. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned back in, kissing him again. He let it happen for a few moments. Truly, he had missed her. Her skin, her smell, her passion. Everything that tempted him and got them into this mess in the first place. But he still restrained himself. He couldn’t ruin this again. Now it was more than just him and his lover. If he fucked up again, he would be screwing things up for his baby girl, too. 

“Mm,, Nacha,” He tried to interrupt. Nacha sensually sighed into his mouth. She had been starved of him, craving for months. She couldn’t handle just a taste, she needed to take a bite. “Francis…” She moaned into his mouth, letting her hand tangle into the hair that laid on his neck. He grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her back.

“Nacha!” He barked,, making his lover flinch and his baby look up. He lowered his head, already feeling remorse for snapping. 

Silence. Again, the apartment was filled with silence. Agonizing, writhing silence. 

“Nacha,” He said in a more gentle tone, his guilt lingering behind his words, “The baby, sweetpea. The baby,” Tears welled in Nacha’s eyes

“I’ll… I’ll put her in the playpen. We can go into your room instead,” She scrambled to fix, but he shook his head,

“No, honey. No. You… You should go home,” He suggested as he turned away, not wanting to see Nacha begin sniffling. A pit formed in her chest as the rejection began sinking in,

“But…” She started, but a shivering weep cut her off, “Please, Please Francis. I miss you so much, honey,” She sobbed, placing her hand on his shoulder and making him tense. His throat began to grow sore, threatening to make him join her wallowing. He shook his head again,

“I miss you too, Nacha, I do. But… I- I just can’t. I can’t do this. Not today, not now,” He tried to explain. He turned back to her, letting his hand rest on her face again. His voice was gentle, as if to console her, yet firm, as if to remind himself of what he was putting at risk.  “Another time, honey. I promise. Another time.” 

“Why… Why not?” Nacha whimpered. Francis hung his head down, “I…” He sighed, using his free hand to wipe his eyes, “I just can’t do it, okay? Please, go home, honey. Bring Ana home, and take care of yourself. Please,” 

“Okay,” Nacha whispered. She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her forearms, then nodded, “:Alright,” She said a bit louder this time, as if to assure it to herself. She gathered her baby into her arms, and returned yet again to the door. 

“Have a good day at work,” She wished, her tone flat and lifeless. Francis silently nodded, “I’ll see you later.”

The door shut behind her. And the silence was back. A heavy sigh left the young man’s chest as he plopped down on his couch. He put his hands over his eyes with a groan

“Mmm… Oh my god,” He groaned before taking a deep breath, trying to rub the stress out of his face. He laid back, letting his arms cross over his chest. He was too worked up to sleep now. He was nervous, excited, feeling sick to his stomach as he processed what went on between them. 

At least he had a day out with them planned. 

[rainsinheaven-if]

☆彡Progress Report # O2

Hello! This is the second progress report for my upcoming IF Rains In Heaven. These progress reports will be posted periodically to update everyone with how writing and coding is going.

☆ Deadlines and Goals Summary ☆

Current Word Count: 13.8K (+7.7K words) V-Day Specials Word Count: ~approximately 1.4K words Coding Progress:  Prologue is completed;  Chapter 1 is 65% completed; V-Day Specials is 0% completed V-Day Specials Completion Deadline: By February 23rd First Demo Completion Deadline: End of March 2025

Keep reading for a detailed report (and a teaser snippet from Chapter 1!)

☆ January progress ☆

The Prologue and Chapter 1 have a combined total of approximately 13.8K words after the first edit, but not yet coded. I have started coding it into Twine, and the Prologue should be fully coded. For Chapter 1, I should be about 65% completed with coding.

Outside of coding, I’ve been writing up some Valentine’s day specials that I plan on posting by February 23rd (hopefully). There will be two specials and you’ll be spending time with your brother and three out of the six ROs for each special. There will be individual scenes for each RO with two chances to make a choice between a bold option and a shy option. All stories will lean to the romantic side, as it is Valentine’s day, but whether your MC or RO has romantic feelings or are just playing around is based on your perception. The stories will be slightly non-canon but will still show each RO’s personality and your MC’s relationship with them, to an extent.

Other than that, I’ve also decided to have an option for MC to develop a childhood crush on either Theodore or Ethos. Choosing to have a childhood crush on either RO will not impact your path with another RO. Additionally, I’m deciding on whether I should scrap the option for MC to choose between being a knight, mage, or both. I am worried that it will make coding more difficult for a beginner like me. My head also only sees the MC as a mage. But this, I am still not sure about and I still have time before I actually have to code the option to choose.

Lastly, I have been working on a Discord server for Rains in Heaven. I plan on making it open by the end of February as that’s when I’m planning to ask for beta-readers. I still have a lot to do regarding Server rules and other information. If you have experience in making a discord server, please leave me some tips or things you wished you did when you started your server.

☆ Goals for February ☆

For February, I will be working back and forth between coding Chapter 1 and writing the Valentine’s day specials. I’ll be trying my best to complete everything by February 16 because the week after (February 17), I have three exams. During that week, I’ll also hopefully start calling for beta readers. The specials won’t be beta read and I plan on posting it by February 23rd.

The goal for the main story still remains the same: the first demo is aimed to be completed by the end of March, if not earlier. An exact date as to when will be announced closer to March.

☆ Chapter 1 Teasers ☆

If you need your thirst to be quenched, here's a snippet of Chapter 1, the calm before the storm. (Please note that there can be some minor changes in the actual game; and yes, i name my MC as Peach)

☆ Final Words ☆

I know in my last progress report, I said I’ll start posting Nolan and ROs profiles. I was unfortunately unexpectedly caught up with the holidays and writing Chapter 1. So I think I’m gonna try to post the profiles in February if I am able to complete the Valentine’s Day specials and Chapter one coding on time. If not, I will have to push it to maybe April or March.

Again, as this is my first time doing this, please be patient and kind with my work. If you have feedback or constructive criticism about my writing from the snippets or from the upcoming V-Day specials, please politely and respectfully let me know so I can improve on my writing.

Dated: February 3, 2025

[dreamingonclds]

Everything Happens For A Reason | LN4

Summary: Sometimes the people that love us hurt us the most but, you can't seem to stay away. After an immense break up, you've become the most passionate in your career. Going from casting to casting, concert to concert, audition to audition, you become one of the most famous artists of your generation. You were done picking up the broken pieces of your heart when somebody comes into your life and you place your heart in someone else's hands again.

Word Count: 945

Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader ft. Carlos Sainz

Warnings: none

Chapter 1

Note: This is my first official fic, I hope all goes well! This isn't fully edited but, I just wanted to put it out there. I hope you enjoy and thanks!!!

Chapter 1

“Hey, hey!”, says your manager strutting into the hotel room you were getting ready in.

“Good morning!”, you say chirpily as you turn to look at the door she came through

Your eyes follow her as she comes to sit on the lounge chair across from the studio chair you're sitting on.

You're currently getting your makeup done as today will be a full day of press for a new Netflix show you just wrapped on. Considering you started acting at 18 and you're currently 23, it’s easy to say you’ve been pretty successful. Many say you’re the best actress of your generation, you got nominated for an Emmy after your first acting job and you're getting job offers left and right. But, you’ve always felt like it wasn’t hard work that got you where you are today; you’ve always believed it was just luck. You never even considered acting in the first place, it just kind of happened. 

You had always lived a normal life, you were born and raised in California to a middle class hard working Mexican family. Up until high school you were just living life as normally as possible. During middle school you developed a love for music which led you to try and pursue it once you started high school. 

You didn’t have to try very hard for people to notice you, you were just that good. But, that didn’t mean you didn’t work hard, after you got your record deal at 17 you tried your best to make hit after hit. You were always afraid the success wouldn't last very long. But after countless number 1s, sold out shows, and very passionate fans; you were sure you made the right choice. 

Soon after graduating highschool you were put into a meeting with your team, they just wanted to know if you wanted to solely focus on music or explore other art forms. You only had eyes for music but they saw your potential and pushed you to try. It wouldn’t hurt to try right, so you gave it your best shot. If you thought you were successful back then you were in for a surprise. Your popularity skyrocketed and multiplied by millions it seemed. You were quickly considered one of the most famous and influential young artists of the generation.

…

“So, I have gone through and confirmed the schedule for these upcoming weeks. But, there is one last thing that just came up. I wanted to go over it with you before I set everything up” she says as she opens and begins typing on her laptop.

Jen, your manager has been with you since high school and has climbed every step of the journey with you. Although she works for you, she is more like an older sister you never had, that and the fact that she’s only eight years older than you.

“Mhm” you nod at Jen as to not disturb your makeup artist who is putting your lipstick on.

“It’s this car racing thingy, something about giving you a tour and meeting each team. I think it’s called Formula something. Anyways, I’m about to send the email back saying no, it doesn’t look like it’s worth our time.” She says nonchalantly

You sit there eyes wide, “Jen are you kidding me, never say no to Formula One!” you semi yell

“I looked into it, it just looked like funny cars going in circles for what seems like forever. But no worries, I’ll just change that no to a yes.”

“I didn’t even know you were into racing, when did you get into this anyway?” she says typing while looking at you waiting for an answer

“Umm, I don’t really remember the exact year but, I think in elementary school. My dad always woke up at 6:00 am to watch the races each weekend”, you say as the makeup artist fixes your eyebrows one last time

“Wow, you’re more into it than I thought. Why have you never mentioned it before?!”

“I mean I haven’t really been caught up with it at all, you know after everything took off I didn’t have time for it”

“Oh that reminds me, the race is in Monaco in exactly two weeks. So, it’ll be the last thing you’ll have to do right before your break” she says matter of factly

“Yes, I can’t wait for it!” you groan in delight leaning back in your chair as your glam team is packing up to leave.

“Yeah, I think I judged it too early, this seems more like a vacation than anything. And these racers, why didn’t you tell me they were this attractive” she says raising her eyebrows at you

You laugh and sit up, “I mean that isn’t what it’s all about but yeah, they’re easy on the eyes for sure. I had the biggest crush on Lando Norris like a year back.” 

You feel your cheeks and ears heat up as you remember your crush, you’d never supported Mclaren until him. You’d always been a Ferrari fan, a die hard Tifosi. Your dad would kill you if he found out your heart was half orange.

Jen waves her hands in front of you, “Earth to Y/N”

“Umm it doesn’t really seem like this crush has passed. Now I know why you want to go so bad!” she teases and giggles at you

You cover your face and blush even harder

You get up and walk towards the closet, “Just help me get dressed Jen, please” you giggle and plead at her hoping she’ll forget about it

She gets up and follows you, “Whatever you say girlfriend” she laughs

[welcometololaland]

almost uploaded a picture of my bank statement instead of this header! happy days!

thanks for the tags @hippolotamus @kiwiana-writes @happiness-of-the-pursuit @rmd-writes

@nancygillianmvp @terramous @tellmegoodbye @freneticfloetry @beautifulhigh

@orchidscript @myheartalivewrites and @strandnreyes (don't think that was a real tag but i'm taking it anyway to force you to love me).

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

49 (last time it was 46 but i feel like that isn't enough of a difference? disappointed in myself dfhskjh)

2. What's your Ao3 bodycount word count?

1,119,086 which does include some co-writes, but I also have around 200k of unposted WIP in my google docs so i'm counting it (including a fully written fic - someone put their hands around my neck and force me to edit it PLEASE).

3. Which fandoms do you write for?

red white and royal blue, 911 lone star, top gun maverick (flirting with winter's orbit always)

4. Top 5 fics by kudos?

the order of these has changed but not the identity:

Speak for Yourself (RWRB) (you know when eminem said he'd never be able to top My Name Is? this is my version of that)

Fifty First Dates (RWRB) (oodie agenda reigns supreme)

The RIng-In (Lone Star) (otherwise, lone star is in danger of being eviscerated from this top 5 lmao)

(Not) A Cinderella Story (RWRB) (NDAs are hot, apparently)

Cursed is a State of Mind (RWRB) (cursed caffeine is the main drawcard let's not lie)

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try my absolute best to. i am currently really behind and i apologise for that (the problem is, i reply to comments before i post anything and i haven't posted anything in ages).

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

serious answer - Contaminated

my answer - oh baby i'm a fool for you because we never find out if they actually watch twilight and that's a damn shame

7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

literally everything else - i don't really do open endings or sad endings! in the words of the great philosopher, skepta: "nah, that's not me."

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i used to, but i haven't in ages! thank god for that.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

yes, although i have to say i've been moving away from pwp lately. i feel my best smut is written into longer fics where the sex serves a plot or characterisation purpose within the frame of the overarching narrative.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

yes, a RWRB/LS but i never finished it. ALTA is a veronica mars inspired tarlos fic which kind of feels like a crossover at times.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not to my knowledge :)

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

yes! Phonography (Lone Star) has been translated, as has Baby, Make Your Move (Lone Star) and Warm Whispers (Lone Star). I'm very grateful to the incredible people who have made these translations happen - you are so talented.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic?

yes, many with @dustratcentral. I also wrote a chapter of a co-written fic with a whole bunch of incredible RWRB authors called never the same twice.

@rmd-writes and I have created (Un)Professional Services and (upcoming) Call Me (By Your Name).

The Rainbow Fish was co-written with @strandnreyes.

I love co-writing so much and I am always open to anyone who wants to give it a go!

14. What's your all time favourite ship?

me + my unposted wips.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

probably the aforementioned crossover which was apparently also my answer last time.

16. What are your writing strengths?

i'm allergic to giving myself compliments but i would say maybe dialogue/banter and worldbuilding.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

keeping things short. also, exposition.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

kinda scared to because i don't speak any other languages and i'm so hesitant to annoy my very talented multi-lingual friends with my annoying questions.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

we don't talk about that.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

probably still Love Game because the experience was just so amazing and i never wanted to stop writing it.

heaps of people have already done this so leaving an open tag and also a couple of suggestions under the cut but apologies if you've already participated or been tagged 7 million times:

@bonheur-cafe @theghostofashton @thebumblecee @indomitable-love @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@tailoredshirt @vineofroses @liminalmemories21 @mikibwrites @birdclowns

@ladytessa74 @basilsunrise @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @rosedavid @sanjuwrites

@alrightbuckaroo @three-drink-amy @marjansmarwani @dumbpeachjuice @doublel27

@lemonlyman-dotcom @blueink3 @ambiguouspenny @clottedcreamfudge @emmalostinwonderland

@sail-not-drift @inexplicablymine @celeritas2997 @cricketnationrise @reyesstrand

@goodways @carlos-in-glasses @heartstringsduet @sunshinestrand @sherryvalli

[wordstreamer]

Seems like everyone needs money these days, and I know I don’t have a lot of followers, but if anyone who sees this can boost or donate something to my KoFi or to a GoFundMe we set up, it would be much appreciated.

Our eldest cat, Diva, had to have multiple emergency blood transfusions, setting us back over $8k in money that we do not have; all three of our cats have medical needs that total about $338/month, on top of their regular care.

(Obligatory pics of our beautiful girl, her baby brothers, Poe and Silver, and said beautiful girl again.)

So, while I don’t love asking this, anything would help.

Edited to add: 7/5 and Diva's tentatively doing better. She's home, her appetite is coming back, and she's getting back to her normal levels of chattiness and energy. We've still got work to do, but things are looking up.

Additional updates under the Read More.

Diva on the bed for the first time in almost a week. (A tabby cat is curled up on a purple pillow, paws tucked in.)

Diva on the bed for the first time in almost a week. (A tabby cat is curled up on a purple pillow, paws tucked in.)

7/17 and probably (hopefully!) the last update for the foreseeable future. Diva had a follow-up appointment today and we confirmed that her red blood cell levels are well within where they should be. She is back to her normal levels of energy, and she is eating and drinking pretty normally, with fairly normal litterbox activities.

I also got a new job - it pays a little less than what I was making, which is a problem, but it will help.

We really appreciate everyone who has spread the word and helped us out! <3 Thank you so, so much.

7/24: One more update, since it’s somewhat relevant: I heard from my former manager, and will probably be getting brought back onto a different team. Diva just jumped around the bedroom and is staring at me judgmentally, which is perfectly reasonable, and her baby brothers are resting peacefully. One of the car problems has been fixed by my father-in-law, and we’re looking into the others. I’ve removed the mention of getting laid off and having car issues from the main post, because while it was true, hopefully, that’s going to be less of a concern. (Trying to tackle an additional hefty vet bill is still a problem, but at least some things are back under control.) For now, things are looking up. Hopefully that’ll continue.

12/23: Edited the main part of the post, because so far, Diva is continuing to improve, and I think it's safe to say that she's "out of the woods." I don't want anyone who looks at my profile/sees this post to think that she is doing worse than she currently is.

We've had to make some changes to her diet and add a monthly Solensia shot to her schedule, but those are things that may have been on the horizon, anyway. We still have no idea what caused the scare back in July, but we haven't had any recurrences yet, and while we're still paying off her vet bill, we have been able to make the monthly payments without issue at this time.

We had a massive scare a few days after I originally made this post - we were absolutely convinced that that was it, that we were saying goodbye. She'd improved after we got her home, but then massively declined; in hindsight, it was most likely a swell of adrenaline/relief/not being at the vet anymore, followed by her needing to rest up after that sudden expenditure of energy. But at the time, it definitely looked like a relapse, and we had already decided--after talking to our vet--that we would not put her through another transfusion so quickly.

She was fine. Her red blood cell count was still rising, and she was livelier than they'd seen her at the emergency vet. So even if things take a bad turn, we've gotten another 5 good months with her and counting. I'm hoping she makes it to 18. I'm hoping she makes it to 20. I'm hoping she makes it beyond. I am so, so glad to have at least had another 5 months with her, and that we were not trapped in a situation where we had to live with the knowledge that while there were avenues we could pursue, we could not afford to save her.

[theheartmold]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @flowersforthemachines for tagging me in this!

i will gently tag @v-arbellanaris and @symphorine; it's a lot of questions so no pressure! answers under the cut

1) How many works do you have on AO3?

Currently have 20 works posted! Which is really fun, good round milestone to post on. I have thousands more in my drafts though.

2) What’s your total AO3 word count?

121,857. Woof that's actually so much more than I thought!

3) What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

(102) missing the mark - bg3 (EXPLICIT), (70) memento mori - bg3 (EXPLICIT), (66) the audience - DA, (38) the exeunt - DA, (37) outside everything i love is melting - DA

4) What fandoms do you write for?

Dragon Age, Baldur's Gate 3, Pathfinder: Wrath of the Righteous, Lord of the Rings... that I've posted. Star Wars & Fallen Hero not posted :)

5) Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, all of them! I love comment interactions and I view fanfic as a community experience. I took the time to write, you took the time to read and comment, let's keep the convo going!

6) What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably "wear me down, it's not in my hands now"; it's about a sibling relationship falling apart lol. i don't write a lot of fics that end on angst.

7) What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Most of mine don't end on such emotional notes or are longfics/wips, but the one that stands out is "say yes to me" which was a Gale/Tav oneshot that I still think is really cute!

8) Do you get hate on fics?

No and god willing it remains that way!

9) Do you write smut?

I kind of do. missing the mark and memento mori are both smutfics (HEED THE TAGS) but are really very fraught with other darker tones. I wrote them when I was going through a really bad place in my life and I can't reread them now--proud of them, but can't reread. Any attempt to write smut ever since has fallen flat out of... idk. Something blocking me. I'd like to do it again one day.

10) Do you write crossovers?

No, and I likely never will. I don't enjoy them.

11) Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12) Have you ever had a fic translated?

Not... to my knowledge. I wouldn't mind if so.

13) Have you ever co-written a fic before?

"A longing that's killing me" was written by @symphorine but a joint effort between us in terms of plotting it out; likewise, "Over Tea" was written by me but with their help :) I count those.

14) What’s your all-time favorite ship?

All of my favorite ships are OC x OC ships with my friends, tbh. In terms of OC/Canon my top two are Steelstep from FHR and Revan/Malak from KOTOR. Canon/Canon is uhh Stobotnik from the Sonic movie series tbh.

15) What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I would love to finish the smutfic with Illario/Andrea. It's set post-VG and is more of a character analysis through sex lol... In it's current state I could post it with strong mature tones, but I'd like to actually write the smut.

16) What are your writing strengths?

I'm told that my dialogue and world-building are my strengths! I do love writing dialogue a lot. World-building not so much but I work hard to make up for my distaste.

17) What are your writing weaknesses?

I actually really hate editing, which is bad, because I fuck up my tenses and definitive articles a lot :(

18) Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in a fic?

I don't know enough of a language so fluently to do so. If someone else does I'll translate it.

19) First fandom you wrote for?

Unposted? Marvel. Posted? Lord of the Rings.

20) Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

"in bloom" I just like writing really dreamy prose sometimes. It's not everyone's cup of tea but it is mine.

[verucac]

Period sex

Dear fellow menstruating people who have or had sex during menstruation. I have gone down a rabbit hole: I am currently taking part in Kinktober. One prompt: (Day 17) period sex.

So I wrote a story – using the 'trope' of blood as a natural lubricant. During my research I often read that menstrual sex is more pleasurable because of the 'extra lubrication'. I was editing my story and everything I wrote just felt wrong. So I read some older stories about this trope. Problem: I can't agree with them. Firstly, my personal experience, and secondly, I am an engineer. So let's try to science/engineer the shit out of it: There are basically two problems here 1. Periodic flow is a good lubricant 2. Extra lubricant from period flow improves sex

1. Technically, lubrication is used to reduce friction. When you need lubrication for specific purposes, you have to consider the many specific properties of the lubricant (e.g. density, viscosity, demulsibility, etc.). Normally, the wetness of an aroused woman is enough to reduce skin-to-skin friction and make the encounter enjoyable. She has the perfect density and viscosity for this. (Dry sex is no fun, e.g. sex after removing a tampon).

A good artificial lubricant for sex is designed to reduce skin-to-skin friction over a long period of time (no drying out, stays where it is applied). Water, for example, might seem like a good idea, but no. Mainly because it has a very low viscosity (it also promotes corrosion, but that's not relevant here). Anyone who has gone down a water slide knows that skin contact on the slide slows you down. You can even get stuck. The water is pushed out from under you and you have high friction. (That's why I don't like sex in water - but that's another topic.) I quote my old professor: "Water is for cooling, not for lubricating" - to be fair, that was said in a different context.

The 'period flow' is basically just normal blood (which is actually watered down compared to the blood in your veins) and some of the cervical mucus that needs to be flushed out. It's not even a perfect emulsion (if you use a menstrual cup, you may have noticed that the consistency is quite uneven). To be on the safe side, let's take the properties of the worst component of this imperfect emulsion: Blood. It behaves like water. And (I repeat) water is not a good lubricant.

2. When a woman gets her period, there's some additional lubrication to her natural wetness (when aroused), but it's minimal. Period flow is often overestimated. It's a total of 60 ml (we could calculate an hourly flow), but let's make it easy and estimate a constant flow of the whole amount for a whole day, so 2.5 ml per hour. Or half a teaspoon per hour. This is really not a lot of 'extra' lubricant (and we have been very generous in our calculations).

Now we put the two together:

The problem now is mixing them. When you mix lubricants, their properties change. Ask petrolheads about motor oil - you'll get a free lecture. Or ask my old professor: "Mixing lubricants reduces their performance".

When you have sex during your period, two types of lubricant mix together. The natural everyday lubricant (perfect lubrication) and the "period flow" (poor quality additive). This reduces the overall quality of your lubrication during your period. Basically, the blood makes your vagina more watery. This means that sex during your period has more friction due to the poorer quality of the lubricant. A little more quantity might compensate for the poor quality of the mixed lubricant, but don't count on it.

Conclusion:

At best, sex during your period will be like sex at any other time because the amount of extra blood is so small (but maybe the thought of it will turn you on and make you wetter), at worst it will just hurt because of too much friction.

So, if this were a risk management scenario: to be on the safe side, use lubricant.

Sorry if I destroyed any kink fantasies.

Full disclosure: I haven't found any scientific papers on the lubricating properties of period flow vs. natural lubrication, (just a paper on whether women like having sex during their period) but please let me know if you know of any.

Am I wrong?

Any comments? Ideas?

Thanks for your attention. Sorry for the lecture.

TLDR: I wrote a story for Kinktober about period sex. Had big issues with the 'tropes'. Rewrote it according to my (not really scientific) research, which suggests that lubrication is actually worse.

[coq-courage]

Rebooting Coq a Day Countdown! 17 16days to go!

But I'm just gonna post once a day about stuff in the fandom tags, finding pictures of good looking coqs is very hard and i would rather focus on the fact that SEASON 6 IS COMING ON JANUARY 25TH

Does talking about the episode titles count as leaks? Cuz like, today i mostly just wanna laugh about history repeating itself, I'll tag and put it under a read more to be safe

Edit: thank you random citizen for clarification on if titles count as leaks~

There's currently rumors saying that the episode that will air will be 602, which is currently named Illustrhater

Which FEELS like a Nath-centric episode

And please, remind me, its been like ten years, but in season 1? Wasn't Climatika first and Evillustrator second and didn't they both get aired as first episodes in different countries?

Aurore, honey, sweetie, I'm so sorry the bisexual hot mess keeps flouncing to the front of the line

Dont worry darling, i love you

I do however also love Nath so I'm quite happy to get him first, it will help with my current stories so much

[holdmymallowsweet]

Hello there 👋

I hope you're having a wonderful day! You might recognize my screen name, I go by TheaCreativity on AO3 and recently left a comment on the amazing Richard Jackdaw one shot you wrote 😊

I thought I'd send you a separate message on Tumblr to say "Hi, I'm Thea!" as well as offering my support for the upcoming Jackdaw part 2 story you have planned 🥰 In the notes of your current story you had mentioned that English wasn't your first language. Trust me when I say - WOW! I never would have guessed; not only did you create a beautifully poetic narrative, but all technical aspects of your writing were on point ❤️

Although I genuinely feel your work is flawless 🙏 if you ever find yourself wanting someone to chat ideas with or review a story for plot flow/word choice/technical writing aspects prior to publishing, please know that I would be happy to volunteer! 🙋‍♀️ I am not an expert by any means, but I edit and beta read for a few fellow creators in the community and I always appreciate it when they do the same for me 🥰

It's so much fun having others in the HL fandom to discuss things with, such as story ideas, plot devices, character arcs and dynamics, theories, etc. ✨ While I enjoy interacting with the fandom, I personally find the larger Discord servers overwhelming and prefer chatting one on one or in small groups 😅 Every creator has their own process though, and what works for some may not work for others.

If you ever want to chat, please feel free to reach out anytime ☺️ I can't wait to read your other works!!

Cheers,

~Thea

Oh you are just the sweetest soul. I already recognized you from when you wrote me comments on my longfic a while ago, and btw, I love your icon over at ao3. I don't know who that girl is or which movie or show she's from, but looking at her sparks an immense amount of joy 🤣

Here's the thing about my English: My dna is 100% pretzel and I never lived anywhere except in or just outside Munich. I've never even been to an English speaking country (unless you want to count a one week trip to Singapore). I've consumed most of my entertainment in English since I was 16 - 17, and after 10+ years (yes, I'm old) I'm actually pretty sure I understand the language flawlessly. But then started writing and wanted to be active in the fandom after HL came out, and I realised that passively understanding and actively finding the words to express yourself are two very different things, and I was suddenly horribly self conscious about my English.

I've since gotten over it, and it's even been a while since I mentioned it in my author's notes. Sometimes native speakers word things a bit awkwardly or don't know what a random obscure word means either, it's not the end of the world. English capitalization will always elude me, but the occasional improper capitalization never ruined a fic for anyone (I hope).

Thank you a million times for your support and your kind words ❤️

I really want to try to write better and more consistently this year, and to hear that someone appreciates my writing really makes me want to try my best to make it happen.

And please tell me who that girl in your ao3 icon is, because I love her.

[gascon-en-exil]

AO3 Wrapped (Writers' Edition)

Found a list for this here, and following in the vein of a mutual on another platform I thought I'd go ahead and answer all the ones that I can to commemorate my first year as an actual fic author.

1. How many words have you written this year?

209,263...on AO3, anyway. I'm not counting my blog or YouTube scripts for any of this.

2. How many works did you publish this year?

6

3. What work are you most proud of (regardless of kudos/hits)?

Hard to pick. What Burns Between Us kicked everything off and has been the blueprint for all the stories that have followed, but I think I might actually like To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues a bit more. I somehow wrangled an even longer fic laden with flashbacks and relatively dark content out of two NPCs who don't even have official art. Also, because of this fic I can say that I've written the only Papp/Roque smut currently on AO3.

4. What work of yours has the most hits?

What Burns Between Us

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues, because it's as mentioned such a tiny pairing. A lot of those comments came from just two people, but still.

6. Favorite title you used

Children Believe What We Tell Them is such an ironic twist on a classic film line (in translation, anyway). Given the subject matter of that fic I was tempted to go for a more familiar reference to Disney's Beauty and the Beast, but Cocteau worked a lot better for me in the end.

7. If you use song lyrics, which artist’s songs did you pull from the most?

I don't, but I do pull titles and original/incidental character names from literary sources: Wilde, Whitman, Chopin, Faulkner, and even Freud among others.

8. Pairing you wrote the most for this year?

Osvald/Partitio, a.k.a. the first of the many ships I've had that managed to inspire me to write fic. I'm still not entirely sure how that happened.

9. Favorite pairing you wrote for this year?

It's either them or Papp/Roque, and while I had to fill in more substantial gaps in canon to flesh out the old man yaoi I do think I'm going to have to say Osvitio again for this one.

10. What work was the quickest to write?

Through the Long Moonlit Night, which I rushed out in roughly ten days to get it done in time for Halloween. That was on me for getting inspired to write a monster fic with less than two weeks to go for it to be timely.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues was around three months total, and it also took more initial planning compared to What Burns Between Us which largely follows the motions of canon.

12. How many WIP’s do you have in your docs for next year?

Oof, I don't even want to think about it. Eight or ten, at least...including a couple of non-Octopath ideas.

13. What’s your longest work of the year?

To Make as Much of Vices as Virtues, at over 77K words.

14. What’s your shortest work of the year?

Polymorphous Perversity, at just over 6K and my first actual oneshot.

15. What WIP are you taking into next year with you?

I do have both a short Papp/Roque piece as well as my first stab at Temenos/Crick (with Osvitio) in the works that I may or may not finish before the end of the year. The big one in the planning stages currently though involves Osvald trading places with himself in a different universe to explore weird new facets of his character...and also to make Partitio cry some more, because that's what I do.

16. What’s your most common “Additional Tags” tag?

Alternate Universe, unsurprisingly. My first fic establishes a partial AU running alongside but still distinct from canon Octopath Traveler II, and all the rest follow it in one way or another.

17. Your favorite character to write this year?

Roque Brilliante, because he's such a humorously terrible person and yet isn't hard to wring pathos out of either because at the end of the day he's a sad old queen who got dumped on so much he decided not to have any morals. He absolutely doesn't deserve the happy ending that the game gives him, and I've kept it that way by never writing a proper redemption arc either...but he has a husband and son who love him in spite of his many, many flaws so he gets that ending anyway.

18. The character that gave you the most trouble writing this year?

Osvald Vanstein, especially for his PoV segment of Wooing That Drifting Imagery. Canon doesn't offer much in the way of post-revenge flaws for him, so coming up with some that both matched his in-game character as well as the time period while also maintaining his relentlessly analytical voice was quite the challenge. I've gotten feedback on how off-putting Osvald's "benevolent" sexism comes across that I have ideas for how to tease at in future fics, so that's good. Additionally, I've received two comments calling my Osvald autistic/autistic-coded which...I guess? That definitely wasn't my intention or even anything I was thinking about. Canon Osvald is coldly rational to a fault and struggles with expressing himself even when he's saving the day with magic laser beams made of the Power of Love, so I just ran with that. (Him having a colossal dick on the other hand is purely for the comedic value.)

19. What’s one pairing you want to explore next year?

I've already mentioned that I want to try out Temenos/Crick for at least one fic. Hikari/Agnea may show up in some of my projects as a background element too. Aside from that, more of the same - although I've always thinking of strange new ways to explore those ships.

20. Which work of yours have you reread the most?

I reread my fics a lot, but proportional to their length I think I've looked back on Wooing That Drifting Imagery the most. It takes a lot of risks on the conceptual level: Partitio in full drag getting some kind of partial gender euphoria, Osvald's PoV, the kinky sex scene that goes sour, the prominence of my OCs.

21. How many kudos in total did you get this year?

148

22. Which work has the most comments?

What Burns Between Us, both in quantity and in number of unique commenters.

23-25.

All regarding collaborations and gifts, N/A

26. What’s your most common category?

Does this mean fandom category? Octopath Traveler II is currently my only category then. That may or may not change next year...although if I do get pestered into writing Fire Emblem fic it's probably not going to be exactly what anyone expects.

27. What do you listen to while writing?

Nothing specific; I'm not a very musically-oriented person. That's the main reason I don't do the whole Spotify Wrapped thing.

28. Favorite work you wrote this year?

Probably Wooing That Drifting Imagery, because of the risk-taking and all the New Orleans references I got to slip in.

29. Favorite line/passage you wrote this year?

Hard to pick. Possibly the ending of Chapter 5 of Wooing That Drifting Imagery:

Stepping forward, Partitio places his arms around Osvald’s neck and leans gingerly against the man’s shoulder, careful not to smudge the powder on his face. “What are you doing?” His hands are on Partitio’s waist, but he seems unsure. “Only…seein’ what it feels like to hug my husband.” Above him, Osvald’s breath catches. He wonders if they’re feeling the same thing. Partitio closes his eyes and inhales deeply. There are memories of sweat and dirt and darkness and the shame of need, of clinging to a muzzled prisoner with fire in his eyes and heart for protection from the unrelenting elements and the cruelty of man. Those memories are set aside – not wholly out of sight, but off in a corner. In their place emerges not one of Shrevelin’s fabrications, but something else both new and strangely familiar. There’s Osvald and his solid, gentlemanly warmth, and the faint fragrance of springtime that enfolds them, and the layers of fabric that separate them solely as a matter of modesty and not of the scorn of the world. Perhaps, when it’s only the two of them in this moment – which will fade like sunlight vanishing behind the trees into dusk, but linger still in the mind – he can be she. Osvald is her husband. She is his wife. “I’m ready.” Osvald takes up his hat and his cane, and offers his arm. Together, they stroll into the New Delsta sunset.

I liked writing this subtle transition where Partitio "sets aside" the memories of the start of his relationship with Osvald, internalizes the Mrs. Vanstein role to match how he's currently dressed as a society wife, and starts using feminine pronouns for himself...even if it's dropped several sentences into the next chapter out of anxiety over being in public. This is also the first time that Partitio refers to Osvald as his husband, when both of them had rejected marital labels for each other in the previous fic specifically because they're firmly stuck in the heteronormative mindset that they can't marry because Partitio isn't a woman. Well, now he sort of is.

30. Biggest surprise while writing this year?

That I wrote fic at all? If not that, then how well my fics have been received in this corner of an already small fandom. I love getting to read comments and bookmark notes and so forth saying how much people like my writing even though I'm still technically an amateur.

[meetinginsamarra]

Writer's Meme, 2024 Edition

Thank you @raina-at for tagging me in the Fic Writer Meme!

How many works do you have on ao3?

60 in total. But 17 are covers to the chapters of “Mutual Attraction“ (couldn’t properly embed pix then) so I have written 43 fics/ficlets.

What's your total word count?

404.688 (currently posting so number will rise)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Learn My Scars, Mutual Attraction, The embers still glow when I’m sober, The toe that didn’t belong, Wretched and Divine

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

Yes, always and nearly always within 24 hours max. I love comments, they give me so much joy. Wether it’s an emoji or an elaborate analysis, I adore them all.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

No angsty endings with me. Only one with an ambiguous happy-ish ending is “Until the final breath escapes” and I wrote this for Halloween.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

They all end happily and in Johnlock.

Do you write crossovers?

So far, none. Maybe one day when inspiration hits. (Actually, it has already hit twice but both concepts are very vague. Like very.)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

No real hate. Some inappropiate or weird or rude comments but they have been few.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

When I feel like it, yes. It varies. I’ve written explicit porn as well as “vanilla” smut.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I’ve had kind offers on three fics for translations but I don’t feel comfortable about this so I politely declined.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I cannot tell if it would work but I am not against trying in general.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

BBC Johnlock

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I have been struggling with “Every fairy-tale needs a good old-fashioned hero” for years now. It should have been my fourth fic but I got knocked out of the vibe back then and now I cannot find my way back although I have tried already two times. I still want to write it. I hate unfinished projects. About 12k written (maybe a third??) and the rest is partly plotted.

What are your writing strengths?

This answer is highly biased, of course. I can write suspenseful action scenes (comments confirm this). I can make readers laugh via funny scenes (comment-confirmed as well). Can write porn and fluff.  I generally think of myself as a versatile writer. And then I get imposter syndrome, like what am I even doing, self-taught writing in not my native language.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing long complicated nested sentences (I’m German. It’s the master language for long sentences) that are really too complicated in English.

Also, see above, I’m not a native speaker (although I count myself as fluent in English) but I write directly in English (no translations!). So, I have to look things/words up to check if they really mean what I think they mean.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Would only be comfortable with German, obviously. Or very easy/short sentences in French or Italian. Only if the fic really needs it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

BBC Sherlock. I started very late in my life with writing fic. (With writing anything at all, actually.)

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

Klance. Keith Kogane x Lance McLain of Voltron – Legendary Defenders (anime). My second beloved ship. I do not actually want to write for this because there is such a distinct lingo to the characters and techno-babble if one writes in canon and I could not mimic this.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

I am not going to choose! I am proud of every single fic.

I don't know who has already been tagged but maybe @blogstandbygo @cumbercurlygirl @holmesianlove @7-percent want to give it a try

[sollucets]

tag game for @khaopybara !! thank you for thinking of me i needed the boost 💜

1. why did you choose your url?

my url is from ‘sol lucet omnibus’, a latin phrase that means the sun shines for everyone. a lot of my urls & usernames and whatnot are sun themed, so this is just another in a long line. for a while it was ‘solclaw’ while i was in a werewolf phase. but i dont plan to change it again

2. any sideblogs? name them and why you have them

ahhh…. the secret come out. i guess? i have two sideblogs. @jinjjayo is my kpop sideblog, which i have not advertised having so far but does exist. i also have @solref, which is just where i collect tutorials & other reference stuff.

3. how long have you been on tumblr?

not consecutively, i took breaks, but my first blog was made in 2011. :0 i’ve had three main blogs over the years.

4. do you have a queue tag?

i do! i don’t use it often but i tag things that are queued with ‘ghost post (queued)’

5. why did you start your blog in the first place?

the original one, i made because my cousin recommended it to me. we shall not speak of its url. this current one was made when i started seriously writing again (thank u rasmr <3)

6. why did you choose your icon?

i love ayluna. my babygirls. that’s all there is to it lol. im also quite fond of the lil stars i edited in

7. why did you choose your header?

i did a lot of work to edit the scene’s colors for my lfls episode series, so i wanted to keep that and use it for one more gif haha. also i love them terribly

8. what’s your post with the most notes?

it is currently this set of the 3wbf trio doing their puzzle piece hugs, at just over 1000 notes. 🥺 im happy they deserve it

9. how many mutuals do you have?

73! i know this because (and i am aware this is embarrassing) i keep a notes document of my mutuals with names & tracktags, so i counted manually. that is,,, thats a lot of you. i love you all very much 🥹🥹🥹

10. how many followers do you have?

i have just over 900 followers. ._. wild

11. how many people do you follow?

i follow 155 blogs. i try to keep the number down but there are simply so many beloveds.

12. have you ever made a shitpost?

sure lol. ive done textpost edits, and that disney only friends thing, and etc.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day?

i check at least once a day. usually more though

14. have you had a fight/argument with another blog?

noooo. i never have. i always just blocked people or we drifted apart. i love to block though

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

i think it’s counterintuitive. people don’t like being ordered around, so a lot of folks will instinctively scroll. then the ones you do get are often because of anxiety, so it feels cruel. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just ask normally / say please reblog this

16. do you like tag games?

why ask this at #16 of a tag game lmao. yes of course. doesnt everyone love to overshare

17. do you like ask games?

yes very much. it always makes it feel more lively. i try to play when i have the time :>

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

ouuhh, mona @thitiponqs probably, hehe. all member of usergif and gay dot tumblr dot com and everything else. everyone should know mona u.u everyone is famous in my heart though.

19. do you have a crush on a mutual?

no! >< it isn’t personal. i don’t have crushes very often. certainly you are all very lovely and cool, and i’ve had mutuals follow me who i had to go scream into a pillow about after for sure, but. it is all quite platonic im afraid 2 say. would still be happy to make out though

20. tags?

i will try! i choose u @markpakin & @lamonnaie ✨

[wilteddreamsofbaldursgate]

Fic writer ask game

Thanks for the tag @mj-bites — these are wonderful questions, thank you! How has it been 2 weeks since you updated Trickery and Daggers??? (*cries in long TBR and the illusion of time*)

3. how do you feel about your current WIP?

Not good, thank you! lol The brain hasn't been cooperating lately and I literally count the days to my ADHD assessment. Some of my WIPs do have potential but I really don't want to waste good ideas with bad writing. Hope I'll be back on getting some proper words down soon because, yeah. Not having a good time rn

10. what is the longest amount of time you’ve let a draft rest before you finished it?

I regularly sit on drafts for weeks or even months. Daybreak Ballads is one of the fics that took me ages to write!

12. a trope you’re really into right now

Forced/arranged marriage and star-crossed lovers!

29. how easy is it for you to come up with titles?

I hate coming up with titles, so not easily at all. I usually just go look for the motif of the fic and, yeah, congratulations you just got promoted to title, boom.

no pressure tagging: @nyx-knox @herdarkestnightelegance @bardic-inspo @littlejuicebox

1. the last sentence you wrote

17. talk about your writing and editing process

23. pick three keywords that describe your writing

27. your favorite part of the writing process