#i think it's designed so you can tear out the drawings and hang them up as posters... which i might do

[walterdecourceys]

goodnight... i just remembered the calendar on my wall is still set to october 2023. it's really pretty though look at it

[ang3ltine]

𝐋𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐬 ꒰ঌꨄ︎໒꒱ - 𝖿𝗍 𝖲𝖾 𝗆𝗂 𝗑 𝖿𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 (18+) MDNI!!

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you were getting ready to meet up with friends who you've missed so much and haven't see them in a while, Se mi on the other hand became a little jealous.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, dirty talk, fingering , mean dom! Se mi, slightly bratty sub!freader and implications of angst

" You're the worst "

You were a breathless mess, with mascara stained tears streaking down your rosy cheeks. The pretty little lace dress was stripped from your body and was thrown next to your vanity.

"Oh...? Trust me sweet thing , we're only just getting started "

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

It was around 7am in the morning as you started getting ready for an important date with your friends.

Lotte World usually has a long line soon after opening , so you guys decided to arrive there early by 9 am sharp.

You hadn't seen them for a while, so you were pretty excited. Today, you picked out a white lace dress with a layered skirt and puffed long sleeves with cuffs. It had a corset like design, and you paired the dress with thigh-high socks with trimmed lace and pale lavender ballerina sneakers.

"Hm? Why're you getting dolled up so early in the morning?" a pair of arms hugged your waist, the voice hoarse from sleeping. Se mi rests her chin atop your shoulder. She had messy bedhair that fell over her eyes, as she watched you intently while you applied the final step to your makeup.

Your sugary pink lipgloss that smells of Strawberries and Vanilla.

"Oh uhh well I'm going out with some friends today. I thought you already knew?", Se mi hummed to yourself as she thinks back to yesterday.

"Nope," giving an emphasis on the p, "I thought we we're gonna sleep in today...".

"I'm sorry Se mi but I really miss hanging out with my friends, I haven't seen them in so long," you say gently while you turn around to cup her cheeks and gingerly kiss her lips.

The kiss awakened something within her and she wanted to taste more.

"Can't you cancel and go another day?", the finger that was tracing the shape of your hip came up to swipe at your bottom lip.

"There's no reason for you to not spend time with me right now..", her voice going an octave deeper and you can see the pools in her eyes darkened with desire.

She had already reached for the back of your dress,undoing the neatly tied bows. You swiftly caught hold of her hands before she could fully take it off.

"Look babe, I'm really not in the mood for your jealousy act right now. I can't just cancel my plans just because you wanna satisfied your needs."

You had no intentios of snapping at her but before you could apologise, she hauls you over her shoulder and plops you down onto your shared bed. Making you sink into the plush pillows beneath you.

"Shit, please, I didn't mean to-" , Se mi shuts you up by locking her lips with yours. Nibbling on your bottom lip, making you whine. Almost drawing out some blood.

She carefully hikes the hem of the skirt up, revealing your dainty pink underwear.

"Oh? What do we have here..?", she drawls as her slender fingers crept over your throbbing cunt. You're not sure when it happened but you only grew more wet just by her painfully hot touch.

She gathers your slick, making it act as lube as she glides over your clit. You tried closing your legs cause you didn't want her to win so easily.

But she was too quick and pried them open and then reached for you phone from the dresser.

" You can't seriously be cancelling my plans just because you're horny are you??", you managed to breathe out as she types with one hand and skillfully undresses you with the other.

" I can and I will," she simply states after sending the message with a ping.

At this point you were oozing of annoyance as you tried covering yourself. There was no way you were gonna let her have you after ruining your planned day out.

"Aww is the princess upset? I'm sorry your highness but nows not the time to be pouty", Se mi mused while trying to get you to look at her. Refusing to look at her.

" Hey I'll make it up to you ok? Just work with me here" Just barely giving in you gave her a 'get on with it' look. Honestly it turned her on seeing you so mad.

Only making her want to ruin you even more.

Slipping past your underwear she teasingly ghosts the hole of your cunt, making you shiver with anticipation. Deep down you want this. You wanted her.

She smirked as she noticed your facial expression contour into pleasure and finally stuck her index finger inside. Deep enough for an audible squelch to echo in your bedroom.

You mewl as she groans at the feeling of your walls squeeze around her, hitting the spongy part just right that makes you go absolutely insane.

"Not so poised now are you?", she snickers while you roll your eyes at her comment. You grab the hem of her shirt and pull her into a seering hot kiss. You couldn't let her have all the fun.

Tugging at the ends you asked for permission to take it off. She tuts and guides your hand towards the nape of your neck.

"Uh I don't think so. A spoilt little brat like you doesn't deserve to be rewarded..", her voice going an octave deeper as she only became more amused at your reaction.

God you hated her.

An hour into the session, she has you in her lap as you lay your head on her shoulder. Already becoming exhausted from the constant thrusting from Se mi's slender fingers.

"Fuck", Se mi hissed as the grip on your hip tightened. Almost certainly leaving a bruise mark on your supple skin.

"Do that for me again love", you didn't have time to react as she pulls out tantalisingly slow and eagerly shoves it back in.

You keen, long and guttural as she continues hitting at your g-spot. Your pelvis unkowngly bucks into her hand, wanting more than you could take.

Se mi nuzzles into the crook of your neck, leaving a series of dark hickeys all over down your bare chest. Your nipples perked as she has one mound in her mouth and the other between her unoccupied fingers.

After a while she let's go with a pop and grabs your ass making you rise up and slam back down on her fingers. You cried out and instinctively reach up and tangled your fingers in her raven hair

"I" slam "Still hate you", you sneer slightly despite being in a euphoric state.

"Oh, rude aren't we?" She snickered as your breath caught in your throat, you would've retorted had she not stuck another finger in. Twisting and going deeper than before to make you more dumbed out.

A dirty cheater for sure.

"Ugh...!! I-- did you have to ruin my dress too-?", you managed to hiss out while you peered down at the smug women beneath you.

You were an absolute mess, mascara stained tears ran down your cheeks. The curls of your hair unravelled and cascaded down your shoulders and your perfect pink lips, swollen and slightly bleeding.

"Don't worry babe, I'll buy you a new one", she cooes while she moves a stray strand of hair away from your face.

It was one thing to fuck a pretty girl, but another thing to have a partner so smart yet bossy as you, being desperate for her to ruin your cunt.

"Shit babe!! Right there--!"

She had you fucking on her fingers for so long you couldn't even check the time on the clock, your vision blurred from your tears. At last you finally burst, unleashing a wave.

Helping you ride through your orgasm until the only thing heard in the room was lewd , wet noises coming from your sopping cunt.

Se mi, was stuffing your own juices back into you at this point, you couldn't really tell if it was that or her fingers were just too filling.

You both were panting, one more than the other. Se mi lifted you up, carrying you bridal style. She softly placed a kiss on your damp forehead as she makes her way down the corridor, heading for the washroom to give you a nice warm bath.

Your beautiful lace dress, discarded and long forgotten.

" Let's get you cleaned up princess" ♡

[hmsdoodlin]

(24) ‘Official’ messy doodle designs!

☆ Design notes under the cut. ☆

(They’re all the same height without shoes)

Mind

• I originally didn’t know what to do about the jacket because he seems like the type of guy to wear it normally/conventionally. But he looked cooler with it hanging off his shoulders and I got attached so he can be impractical for the sake of fashion

• Blue eyeshadow and bold eyeliner, he’s a DIVA

• Makes it his mission to be taller than Heart at any given moment, loves Demonias and any tall boots. Also prefers to feel taller in general.

• Otherwise pretty basic Mind design, he’s got mechanical hands up to his elbows and a metal neck + voice modulator

• When he gets particularly upset his little hair curl sticks up like an antenna and goes rigid

• Keeps his outfits spotless and without wrinkles

• Sun earring and charm on his belt

(I actually spent a good 30 minutes researching and mulling over who out of Mind and Heart got an earring on their left or right. I can’t remember the reasoning I ended up going with. BUT, because of how they’re worn Heart usually is on the right of Soul in pictures/portraits. Smth smth Mind yearning to be Souls ‘right hand man’ but not being able to fill that imaginary role both physically and metaphorically)

Heart

• Starry hair! I think he has faint sparkles or stars towards the bottom

• Wings always look like shit in cacophony, something about a birds flock usually helping them with molts and preening and having trouble doing it by themselves

• Constantly picks at his eyes so it’s either blood or tears, we’re not quite sure

• The moons on his pants are a bit random but they felt naked so I slapped em on there

• Seems like the type of guy to wear slides, but I can’t draw those so he gets simple sneakers. Thought about him in only socks but I don’t think that’s a good idea when you’re getting into fights and potentially breaking glass on the daily

• When he gets particularly upset his little hair curl gets sharp and makes a pointy heart

• Hoodie is full of stitches

• Moon earring!

Soul

• If you’ve ever played the sims 3 you probably know those slutty knee high boots in CAS, he has those

• Loves to be tall and also thinks big heels are cool

• The red parts on his design are a tad bit glittery/shiny

• Still on the fence about constellations in his design since I don’t know anything about them. I have Orion’s Belt ‘pointing’ at the sun and Corvus floating around the moon.

• Yes that’s the fucking Bill Cipher “William”constellation. It’s only there to torment a good friend of mine because I think it’s funny. Purely an easter egg for the sake of being a menace

• Soul the type of guy to have a bunch of pins and patches on his jacket. Might have to revisit the idea one day (Pins will definitely get rearranged in any future art, maybe he changes it up a bit daily to be silly)

• MASCARA! Pointy eyelashes

[my-darling-boy]

It’s horrible how my design course has killed my enjoyment in creativity because all they want is finished pieces founded in nothing but a spontaneous mark just to hang at some concrete art gallery or to sell to some “join our revolution” comfy business-casual company with a prison cell wellness room. I’m not saying that it’s “not art” —cos that’s a different post altogether— it’s that the ethos behind this particular formula for art education is ruining the way we think about creation.

Design courses (and other art courses I’ve heard?) are no longer teaching artists or designers techniques, drawing skills, art fundamentals and allowing them to find their own voice so much as they are only instructing how to tic boxes alongside pushing corporate and classist motivated style/methodology bias aimed at producing workers, not creatives, not to mention providing Adobe with endless funds for their despicable scam programs. That’s it. My creativity is only a means to money for them, and if they can extract the process of creation from me without the complex creative intimacy involved in it, they know they can churn out products and services faster and it’s concerning some lecturers don’t seem to be aware this is what they’re teaching? Like they’re buying into industry propaganda?

And the whole time it’s sold to you like you can be some trailblazer when the irony is they’re usually either prepping you for cubicle work or for some misguided high horse creative team pumping out design solutions completely divorced from the reality. I’m tired of all the talks about sustainability in a vacuum with no conversation about nuanced designs that factor in broader social and economic perspectives which lack thereof is leading to sustainable products being sold at a price only able to be afforded by wealthier people who are causing said economic and social problems and contributing to the rapid obsoletion of trades and crafts. Lecturers and speakers don’t seem to think that’s any of our concern and should just worry about producing the design for the hypothetical Bluetooth powered organic hairbrush or using the twigs to make the pattern for the £85 fabric square.

Like? Can I please make something that actually resonates with people outside the circle jerk of egotistical creatives and corporations? Something charming and maybe idk something that doesn’t make me want to tear my miserable portfolio in half with my teeth? And they’re like Mm nope sorry it has to be an extreme close up of a mark making abstract leaf you made from a recycled trash bag inspired by a stalled urban space which we will force you to price at £100 during your exhibition 5 people will bother to attend and no you’re not allowed any other style cos this isn’t the Dark Ages :///

I think the worst thing my lecturer ever said was, while looking around the room of our class work reduced down to a series of cubes and splatters and abstract typography, “Wow, I love how you can’t tell what anyone’s [main artist discipline] is!” Like awww conformity at the expense of a person’s individuality to make pieces for airport hallways and rich people’s living rooms wow so cool heehee like girl that’s not good?? Why on Earth are you complimenting us for that? Like I get it, I thought this course would boost skillset as an illustrator (as we were told), turns out the degree is really not for me, fair enough to anyone thinking that, but forcing students to produce modern abstract art because you think it’s the ONLY Logical Pathway for the future of design, judging them intensely for doing a different style, and thinking producing financially inaccessible art + design is the solution to things like climate change and community severance is an objectively bad take.

[the-universal-sun]

what does lee most like to infodump or rave about to ford and fidds? what’s it like?

I went into a spiral when researching dinosaurs for this and got distracted watching videos on them. But thank you so much for the ask! I enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Hugs,

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

-When regressed, Stan goes mostly non-verbal. It’s mainly by choice, he never really feels the need to speak, but sometimes he can’t bring himself to be able to speak, his tongue feeling too heavy in his mouth. He’ll only speak when he’s in the mood for it and around those he truly trusts with all his heart

-But when Little!Stan is in the occasional speaking mood, boy can he talk. It’s like he’s got to get it all out now before he goes back to being a pretty non-verbal little

-He talks a lot about cars, his car, the different parts of cars, his matchbox cars, he loves cars. He’ll draw and color Ford and Fidds pictures of cars and point to and explain each detail, and also that cars look better with super cool designs, so his car should get fire on it (this does not happen)

-He has a dinosaur book and he thinks the dinosaurs are all so cool, his favorites are the Wannanosaurus-he thinks the name on that one is funny-and the Pachycephalosaurus, he can never pronounce the name, but a thick headed Dino that was really actually nice? Stan feels a slight kinship to it (he cried one time about it)

-Of course he’s gonna talk about superheroes, why wouldn’t he? He (used to) loves superheroes, and when Ford brings home new issues of “Captain Nazi Puncher”? Stan’s going off in Fidds’ ear, who had never heard of the series, about the many fights and battles the comic book hero won; he’s hanging off Fiddleford and pointing at the comics with a “Look! Look! Look! Look!” And then he’s got to bring out his own “Lil’ Stanley” comics that also have new issues that feature a grown up “Six Shooter” and a new character named “The Fiddler” who accompany Lil’ Stanley on his journey. Fiddleford bawled out of happiness and Stan had to console him while Ford turned away to wipe a stray tear off his face

-The other reason Stan doesn’t want to talk when regressed is because, since his tongue feels heavy and weird, he’ll have the most adorable slight lisp and almost flub his words, which embarrasses him and makes him feel like a baby. Fidds coos over it though, he can’t help but find it cute!

-Ford and Fidds treasure it anytime they hear Stan speak, its a rare delicacy that they know means Stan trusts them, and that means the world to them

[rory-multifandom-mess]

I mentioned this au in the tags of a post like… Yesterday I think I don’t remember. Anyway.

In this AU, Thad’s universe had a bad ending, aka Solver managed to wipe out the whole universe.

Before the finale, Thad located this time machine thingy that looked like DD ships and taught himself to work it. During the finale, after Lizzy, Khan, and Nori died, Thad, V, N, and Uzi realized there was no winning. They started to flee toward the pod, fighting off solver; V gets killed on the way, but Uzi, N, and Thad make it to the pod. N and Uzi then realize that no one would make it out alive if they went with Thad. So while they were arguing, Uzi shoved her jacket and N’s hat logo at Thad, which shoved him in.

Thad stumbles back with a yelp, hitting his elbow on the emergency start button. The door slams and he panics, rushing forward and slamming his fists on the door, screaming and begging for them to come with him, to please don’t do this!

They turn back to him and smile. N starts to tear up. Uzi’s visor changes to text. “Survive. For us.” N’s visor also changes to text. “We’re sorry. And we’ll miss you.”

Thad begs, but the pod shakes, falling into his back as it takes off. He scrambles to his feet again, looking down at them.

He watches as Cynessa lunges at them and they’re consumed by dust. He sees oil splatter and heads fly. Yellow tendrils shoot out of the core of Copper 9 and at him. Moments before it reaches the pod, the pod enters hyperdrive, which knocks him out.

When he wakes up again, he tries to use the pod to go back to his universe, but it gives him an error message.

[[:Error: Universe Unavailable. We are sorry.]]

Yeah he’s not ok.

Anyway, all of that was 3 years ago. Here’s some extra info about the AU under the cut!

- He occasionally visits the og Universe, partly to rummage for scrap metal, partly to make sure it’s still healthy (if something bad happens to it, there goes the rest of the universes) and partly to hang with Uzi, V, and N. He physically cannot go near Lizzy because he will have a breakdown

- Hanging with the gang kind of hurts his heart but he’s coping it’s ok

- V and Uzi don’t fully trust him which also hurts but he fully understands it

- He taught himself a lot of skills like mechanics, engineering, coding, and some quantum physics, etc so he could repair himself and the pod

- Obviously, he goes around the universes saving others from total destruction like his, even if it does obstruct things. Moral dilemma pov u know how it is

- Oh also his upgrades make him 5’1

-=-=-=-=-=-

Here’s Uzi’s og design in the universe Thad is from

I was gonna draw V, Lizzy, and N’s lil design differences but i don’t have the motivation anymore, so I’ll write them.

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - SD-V

- Has the original red bandana/scarf from her concept art

- Permanent glasses

- Hair is longer, tied into a spikey bun

- “Fingerless gloves” on her normal drone hands

- Shorts, like the ones she wore in episode 4, except black and permanent

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - SD-N

- Back of hair looks more like a mullet cause it’s longer

- White T-shirt under jacket

- Gave the pilot hat logo to Uzi so she can put it on her beanie (i forgot to add that to her ref)

- Snaggleteeths

- Pilot “coat” thingy is slightly longer like a trench coat

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - Lizzy

- Instead of her hair all being up in a ponytail, she has a half up, half down look, and her ponytail isn’t as long. Medium length hair girlie

- Jacket that she wears off her shoulders so they rest around her elbows

- Streaks of pink in her hair

- Tights. don’t ask me how that works

- Obvious eyelashes added to her eyelights

- Not a physical change, but she’s slightly smarter than canon Lizzy. When she got Thad between Episodes 6 and 7, she gave him her hair ribbon, because she knew he is far more agile than she is. And she was right.

Uuuuh. Kay that’s it. send asks with questions if you have any. Yes you can draw stuff for this/draw the designs. I don’t have the motivation </3

[heartfullofleeches]

Imagine Miller doing a subbathon with yan chat except instead of donating bits to keep the stream going, they’re donating bits to see Y/n. Y/n is just sitting there next to Miller reading a book or something whilst they play a game and anytime the counter runs out because chat didn’t donate Miller juts kinda, throws a blanket over them or something until someone donates

A shadow appears outside your tent.

"Mind if I come in? Looks so cozy from here I might not leave.. Ow, ow, shit- not again." Setting up for the stream, Miller pokes their head through the curtains of your enclosure to attach a mic piece to a hanging frame, cerulean dreads snagging on the velcro latch in the midst of their playful banter. They mutter expletives, since as they tear their locks free. They crawl inside the tent and tap the mic overhead where you lay with a book in your lap and surrounded by a small library filled with more novels and other items needed for the duration of your stay. When Miller told you they'd be pulling out all the stops for your new corner - they meant it.

The whole idea for the space came when they discovered the very foundation for it online. They had mindlessly scrolling through various forums looking for ideas to make their room feel more of a home for you when they came across a frame for a floor bed fashioned in the design of a small house. It went in their cart that second and on their doorstep a day later. After gutting one side of their floor and setting the bed up, Miller fit it with your favorite sheets and pillows. They strung up mood lights and installed shelves into the walls for your trinkets. By the time they were done, the area was more decked out than their entire apartment. A fair act given who it was for. You warmed up to it well enough and that's all they could ever ask.

Miller grabs the remote for the lights and turns them up. "Quiet read in the dark unless you want eyesight somehow worse than mine." Their voice softens the closer they get until their lips graze your cheek. "You good to start?"

"Mmm...." You pull the blanket trapped beneath their knees over your lap. "Now I am."

Miller smiles. "Good. Remember, just turn off the cameras if you can't handle the attention. There's one there, there, and obviously here-" They point around the room, stopping on the front facing camera of your laptop. "And you have my card if you want order something to eat while we're live. I'll check on you in about an hour. Be good."

Miller nabs the pillow cushioning your elbow and lightly smacks your knee with it before backing out of the tent. They place it behind their neck as they sit down at their desk and adjust their headphones over their ears. Waking their monitors up, they find the feeds from your cameras on one and the scheduled stream on the other. Right before they tune in, Miller presses a kiss to the pads of their fingers and places it on the screen where you sat. The curtains draw back.

"Saw that!"

Miller hushes you, wiping the snicker off their face as the stream goes live. "Hey, guys. As some of you may know if you follow the community page, we have a special stream today."

They eyes the chat as you get comfortable. You yawn, laying on your side with your book in hand.

[I'll take your entire stock.]

[So glad I got paid yesterday. How are they so freaking cute?!]

[If someone gives a certain amount can they read to us too???]

[Alexa, what's my location]

"Your first mistake is thinking I'd have one of those things. Your second is not realizing we plan on moving every two years. You can watch them all you want, but it's best you remember Y/n is my partner. Cross any boundaries and I will take them away just as easily as I have shown them off to you.... but I'll still send pictures from the wedding!... Baby, you doing okay?

You hold your finger over your laptop's camera, reading the flood of messages and donations from your phone. "They absolutely hate when I do this.... but I think it works in our favor."

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 15: Feral FOMO

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev || Next

"Llllleeeee--- ohhhh? Llleeeo! LEO!" Mikey shouts, tail flapping wildly and threatening to smack someone upside the head.

"You did it, bud!" Leo squeals, grabbing Mikey and hugging him close. "Ahh, music to my ears! My name has never sounded so good!"

Mikey giggles and sqeaks with joy before pointing to Donnie.

"Ee! Eee!" he says, hoping they get the hint.

"You wanna learn Donnie's name?" Raph asks. Mikey nods.

They spend the next ten minutes working on enunciating the 'D' in 'Donnie'. It's harder than they expected, and Mikey mostly uses the 'T' sound as a cheat. His voice is gravely and scraggly, worn out and scratchy. But it's there. Just a little out of use.

The vocal exercises and enunciation techniques slowly start to get on Mikey's nerves. He's trying, it's just so hard! And to him, he thinks he IS saying properly, it sounds right! But not good enough for the others.

But it's worth all the irritation, because when Mikey finally makes that 'D' sound, the room erupts into cheering. Mikey is elated.

The rest of the afternoon is spent teaching Mikey to speak again. They focus on sounds, pronouncing them as best as possible. Mikey understands the language, he just has to re-train his throat and vocal chords and tongue. But by lunchtime, he can say various basic words and phrases, such as his own name, Leo and Raph and Donnie and Splinter and Casey, food and cold and human, hurt and happy and scared and angry, among others. Simple things to help him express himself in quick moments. He's getting the hang of it pretty well.

Lunchtime is fun, Mikey shows off his new vocabulary to Casey, who he was calling male human until he learned his actual name. Casey looks a little hurt by that admission, but is blown away when Mikey says his actual name to him, not just signing! Splinter actually starts crying when he hears Mikey's voice, withered and hoarse as it is.

After lunch, Donnie insists on doing some work and suggests that Mikey have fun with the others, looking at Leo specifically.

Leo takes the hint and goes to get a bunch of puzzles, books, memory games, etc. Things to help Mikey exercise his brain.

Mikey, Raph, Leo, and Casey try to work out a huge jigsaw together in Mikey's room. Mikey seems to understand it well, his eyes moving fast and brain piecing it together. His problem-solving skills are on point. The only issue he comes across is getting to pick up the pieces. His talon-like fingers are too big and sharp, he ends up tearing the paper designs on top of the puzzle pieces. The others help him as much as they can, and soon enough they're halfway through.

Until Donnie walks into the room with an enormous grin on his face.

"If I might have your attention for a moment, I believe I have created something quite ingenious!" he states with excitement.

Mikey knows this excitement, he recognizes it well. He remembers having this same excitement whenever he finished a really good drawing or came up with some new... what was the word... razzmatazz!

It's why he and Donnie hung out a lot before... they were both imaginative creators, and wanted to share their work with people who they knew would appreciate it.

Mikey jumps from his seat and runs up to Donnie, purring and circling around his feet in anticipation.

"D-Dee! Dee make? Mikey see! Mikey see it!"

Donnie smiles enthusiastically and leads him to a room filled with ramps and skateboards. The rec room. They look around in confusion, wondering what Donnie's come up with this time. Dee halts, turns around dramatically, and points upwards.

Mikey cranes his neck and gasps in pure delight.

From the ceiling is hanging hoops, bars, levers, huge tubes with windows, rope swings, ladders, and even a slide! Donnie made him a jungle gym!

Leo whistles in astonishment.

"Geez, Donnie, when did you have the time to make this?"

"After the conversation about the importance of physical exercise yesterday, I got to work on blueprints and designs. I made most of the materials last night, and finally finished setting it up about half an hour ago. It is ready for use!"

He turns to his mutated brother.

"Would you care to do the honour of breaking it in?"

Mikey shrieks in delight and rushes for the gift his brother made him. He leaps up and grabs onto the rope dangling from the ceiling, scrambling up with light speed and swinging as he does. He jumps from the rope to a tube tunnel, scurrying through it and then leaping to the monkey bars, doing all kinds of gymnast moves and even using his tail as an extra arm before swinging to the slide and whooping on the way down.

"Well, that didn't take long," Leo jokes.

"Do you like it?" Donnie asks with anticipation in his voice.

Mikey squeals and shrieks in delight, rushing to his brother and pouncing on him, twirling around and around in his arms.

"MIKEY LOVE!!! Dee make... make Mikey happy! Mikey LOVE DEE!!"

Donnie grips him tightly, hoping to hide the tears in his eyes as his little brother shouts in his ear. He doesn't care, he doesn't mind. Anything for Angelo.

Mikey lets go of Donnie and dashes back to the upside down jungle gym and plays with it over and over again, looking down at them from the windows in the plastic tunnels and chirping at them, as if asking them to join in the fun.

Leo smiles and ribs his twin.

"Well done there, Don-Tron."

.

.

.

"How's its heart rate?"

"Doing well, Dr. Timothy."

"Good. Dr. Chaplin is coming in for an examination, you know how invested he is in our little pet project..."

Mikey runs as fast as he can on the treadmill. He's not getting tired, but he is getting bored. You can only run in place for so long... Cords and suctions and beeping things are attached to his wrist, chest, neck, and head as he runs and runs and runs. There are numbers on the small digital screen connected to his arm. The numbers are pretty high, at least that's what the doctors say.

"80 mph and going steady, Doctor."

"Wonderful! And how long has he been running for?"

"Almost twenty minutes... we've only just started."

"Good. Keep it up, Abigail."

A door opens and another man in a white lab coat walks in.

"Ah! Dr. Chaplin! Good to see you..."

"Mmm. Dr Timothy, Dr. Finn," the man hums, his gaze fixated on Mikey. "How's our little miracle monster doing?"

"Wonderfully, considering we've completely rewritten his DNA and molecular structure. We're testing endurance now. He's holding up fairly well -- health is good, stamina great... he's lost a lot of weight, though."

"Will this be an issue, Dr. Finn?" Chaplin asks, turning to look at the young woman with a tablet.

"Not to my knowledge. If it goes down any lower though, we may have a problem."

"Hm. Keep me updated on that. We want him healthy and strong. Speaking of which, let's place him in the Interaction room after this, Prof. Honeycutt has been good enough to create a new batch of machines for the training simulator, and I would like to see how this 'Mikey' creature handles them."

Abigail Finn nods and turns her attention back to Mikey. This poor dumb animal has no idea how terrible his day is about to get...

.

.

.

Mikey is dozing off a bit, letting his thoughts seep in like molasses, slow and sticky and enveloping him completely.

He had been enjoying the privacy of the tubes, resting in them for a bit as his mind wandered and he watched Raph and Leo teach male human Casey how to skateboard. They'd been doing that for a while, and it is now early evening, possibly around 5PM or so...

He comes back to reality when the memory of the labs is interrupted by April calling for Leo.

"Leo! Hey, 'Neon Leon'! Where IS everyone?"

"Rec room," Leo shouts back.

Mikey pokes his head out of the aperture and watches as April runs in, sees the jungle gym and stops to point at it, her mouth opening in surprise as she wants to ask a question before shaking her head and staying focused on topic.

"Leo, Cass just texted me -- there's an issue happening at the Chelsea Piers! It looks like that komodo-mutated Kristoff Van Bradford, and all-star player turned billionaire owner-slash-coach-slash-recording artist, Tim Dunkman!"

"Those guys?" Leo asks, riding his board up the skate ramp and landing with a twist. "Wow, whou'da thunk we'd hear from them again!"

"So I guess it's hero time, huh?" Raph calls back, jumping down from the opposite ramp and tossing his skateboard onto a nearby bench. "Alrighty then! Let's get our gear and --"

Raph pauses, and turns to Leo.

"Sorry. Uh, what's the move, leader?"

"April, text Cass to try and hold them off but stay safe," Leo responds after thinking it over. "We'll be there soon, just need to figure out a few details."

"On it!" she calls, grabbing her phone out and typing quickly.

"Okay, next up... someone has to stay and keep Mikey company."

Mikey yells his protests, swiftly clambering down from the jungle gym and expressing his utter disinterest at being left behind. Leo seems to ignore him as Casey walks over.

"I can stay, if you need me to..?" he offers.

"Great. Mikey, is that okay with you? Do you feel comfortable with CJ?"

Mikey utters sounds and scoffs as he tries to think of words that can help.

"Mikey... g-go! Mikey... angry, Mikey go! Mikey... not love alone, Mikey go w-with brothers! Mikey... ssss... ssssstttt... stttrrrong! Mikey strrrong, Mikey not, not..."

"Weak?" Raph offers, trying to help with word association.

Mikey nods at Raph. "Mikey... help! Mikey good help, Mikey not weak!"

"It's not about strength or weakness, bud," Leo says, crouching to lay a hand on Mikey's shoulder. "I just don't want to risk losing you again. And I 100% believe that you could kick their butts no problemo, but you need your rest. The last thing you need is to go on a mission and risk getting hurt while you're still recovering."

"Awwwww!" Mikey whines loudly.

"No buts, mi hermanito," Leo says firmly, standing tall. "You're staying here for now. We'll only be gone for a short while, and then we'll be right back."

Mikey pouts and crosses his arms, hoping this will change their minds. It doesn't, and Leo starts to lead Raph and April out of the room to go and fetch Donnie.

Mikey chirps sadly at them and tries to follow before Casey places a hand on his shell, causing him to pause. Mikey whimpers at him, begging him to stop them, or let him go. But Casey doesn't lift his hand. He strokes his shell softly, but seems kind, sympathetic. Mikey sits.

Mikey gazing sadly as his brothers walk out carrying weapons. Donatello stops to glance back at Mikey, a worried expression on his face. He keeps walking, though. Mikey follows after them quietly, watching as Leo swipes his sword and creates a portal in the air.

Mikey's eyes widen.

When did he learn to do that?!

The three others step through the portal before Leo, who turns back to see Mikey giving him a sad expression.

"We'll be back soon," Leo promises, a soft smile on his face.

Mikey takes in the smells sifting through the portal. Water. Fish. Smoke from cars and boats and machines, something like rubber from balls like the ones he and the other experiments were given to play with...

Leo steps through, and the swirling blue light vanishes. Mikey yipes a quick whinge, then runs to where it was a second ago.

"Don't worry, they're okay, they'll be back!" Casey promises.

Mikey is not happy about this. He wants his brothers back now.

They left you again. I knew they would. Betrayal. Betrayal. Betrayal.

Mikey starts running immediately.

"Wait, Mikey!! Where're you going?!" Casey calls after him.

Mikey isn't sure. He's following his nose for now... He dashes back and forth, looking for the exit...

He finds the garage where the tank is, but doesn't understand how to navigate the tunnels... Casey runs in after him, out of breath.

"Mi-- wheeze, wheeze -- Mike, Mikey! Would you -- gasp, gasp -- would you slow down for just a second?!"

Mikey can't. Mikey has to be fast. Mikey has to be swift. It will be bad otherwise.

The labs taught us that.

Mikey finds a hatch high up in the ceiling. There's a ladder. Mikey runs to it, despite the shouts of disapproval Casey yells. Mikey makes it all the way to the top and inspects the hatch.

Unscrew. Lift. Simple.

It is simple. Mikey twists the manhole cover and pushes it up. He climbs out and looks around.

LOUD. VERY LOUD.

Mikey ignores the blaring sounds of traffic and the overwhelming smell of bad humans. It's everywhere. He crawls out of the manhole and slinks to the shadows, watching. Looking. Smelling.

Saltwater. Fish. Smoke. Rubber. Look for those. SMELL.

Mikey smells. He can very faintly pick up the scent. He hears Casey yelling after him as he climbs the ladder rungs to give chase. Mikey dashes away over the wire fence behind him before the male human can take him back down.

Mikey is swift and unseen. He manages to snake himself about in secret, dodging all eyes as he follows the scent of saltwater and fish to the pier. Once there, he finds the smells of rubber and smoke. He follows it to a section of the pier where several warehouses and complexes are being evacuated as a reptilian man with long blonde hair, and a tall and thin man wearing a mystic amulet around his neck are demolishing the place.

"Dis will teach you imbeciles to underestimate Kristoff Van Bradford!"

"And I will not let my career be a shambles! If I can't have the basketball championship, then NO ONE CAN! Nobody one-ups 'The Dunk'!!"

The two men create chaos and smash the sports equipment as a young woman fights against them, drawing their attention away from the crowds.

"Kaliiii MAAAA!!" she yells, flipping as she dodges their attacks. "Is that the best you can do?! A BABY COULD FIGHT BETTER!"

Mikey ducks in and watches from a corner. This female human smells like the male human he ditched back at the lair. He wonders...

Mikey suddenly hears a familiar sound. A roar that should terrify him, but instead fills his chest with warmth and a joyful feeling of comfort and safety.

Raph lunges forwards, his entire body covered in red light as a ginormous version of himself that covers him up like armour slams his fist into the komodo man. He flies backwards and lands in a basketball store.

"This would be a lot easier if you'd just show us how to do the Seven-Deadly-Vipers move!"

"Kinda in the middle of something, now!" April shouts back.

Mikey sneaks in closer. His brothers are here. Mikey wants his brothers.

But they betrayed you, and left you...

Never.

Leo slides in, his moves quick and calculated. He slashes the air as Raph throws an entire canister of baseballs into the portal he creates. A separate portal activates across the way and slams into the back of the man wearing the amulet. He yells in pain before clutching the amulet tightly, his body contorting in odd ways before transforming into a giant cyclops creature.

"I am SO glad I kept the magic jewel from that archway!" he cackles, grabbing several of the balls and tossing them back at lightning speed.

Leo dodges them, creating a new portal that lands him on top of the cyclops. As the Dunk struggles to reach behind him and grab the turtle, Donnie creates a huge ray gun that sucks up the Hudson River and shoots it at the two villains, soaking them both and slamming them into a wall. Leo creates one last portal behind the Dunk which reopens above a dented basketball hoop. The celebrity flies into the portal and falls into the net, getting stuck upside down in it. The amulet slips off of his neck and clatters to the floor, the one-eyed monster transforming back into a man with a groan.

"Now that's what I call a slam DUNK!" Leo proclaims proudly, doing a quick fistpump.

Meanwhile, Kristoff Van Bradford crashes into a soccer goal and becomes tangled in the net. Raph grabs the two ends of the goal with his hologram form and wraps them around the man, effectively tying him up.

"All wrapped up, eh?" Raph tries.

Leo boos him in jest.

"The jokes are my thing," Leo scorns. "The hero speeches are yours."

Raph rolls his eyes and smiles as he hangs up the green-skinned actor and pet komodo dragon next to Tim Dunkman so they can't escape.

"Is that everything?" Raph asks.

"I think so," Leo sighs, turning to Donnie. "What's the damage?"

"Structurally, not as bad as it could have been. As for the publicity, I think a few people snapped some chats of us," Donnie informs, clicking away on his wrist tech. "But nothing substantial. We're in the clear. The police are on their way now, so we should get going."

Leo nods, ready to lead the way when he stops, his gaze catching Mikey's eyes glittering from the shadows. He peers at him before his eyes widen and his mouth falls open with shocked anger, realizing what the glowing eyes belong to.

"MIKEY?!"

Uh-oh.

The others turn to watch as Leo storms over to where his brother is hiding. Mikey slowly creeps out with soft chirps, hoping it will smooth things over with his infuriated older brother. It doesn't.

"Mikey, what did I tell you?!" he shouts. "I said you needed to stay home! I said we'd be back soon! How in the f--"

"LANGUAGE!" Raph shouts quickly.

"--ffffffffrrick did you get here?!" Leo grumbles.

"Mikey smell brothers, Mikey follows," he explains. "Mikey no like alone. Mikey want brothers."

He looks at the expressions of the people watching his scolding. They don't like that he's here, either.

"Mikey... do bad?" he asks hoarsely, looking up at Leo with sad puppy eyes.

Leo stares back at him, trying to keep from falling for those big eyes again.

Don't fall for it. Don't fall for it...

He lasts five full seconds before closing his eyes and sighing, relaxing his tense shoulders and kneeling down next to his brother.

"Mikey... I just want you to be safe. I can't lose you again."

Lost. Not betrayed. Mikey was lost?

He stores that information away to ask about later...

In the meantime, Leo hoists him up and lets him ride on his back as he takes him home.

"Come on guys, let's get outta here..." he groans.

"I need to stop at the junkyard," Donnie announces. "I need more supplies for some of my tech."

Leo gives a nod and the group hurry away from the pier, avoiding the crowds as they travel to the Repo-Mantis scrapyard.

Mikey clings close to Leo, feeling guilty for making him mad and disobeying him. He whimpers softly, nuzzling closer and resting his cheek against the area between Leo's shoulder and neck. Mikey vibrates his throat, murmuring his self-pity and hoping Leo can tell how sorry he is.

The group arrive at the scrapyard. It's quiet.

"You think he closed for the night?"

"Not like it matters," Donnie says as he slips through the entrance. "I'm not paying for his scrap metal."

The team wander into the area as Donnie flips his goggles and begins scouting for the items he needs. After a few minutes, something in Mikey stirs. He lifts his head high, sniffing the air.

"Mikey? What's up? Something bugging you??" Leo asks, feeling the change in his attitude.

Mikey's tail spikes raise. The scales on his shoulders lift and curl into quills.

Donnie's goggles sight something in the distance as well, and he grips his tech-bō.

"Be on alert, there's something up ahead..."

Mikey starts to growl.

"What--"

The group are suddenly ambushed as a series of pink and purple people start charging them, climbing from the trash and rubble and rusty metal, roaring and snarling. Their bodies are covered in eyes, globs of putrid flesh and veins, claws that protrude at odd angles, spines and extra arms and faces where they shouldn't belong.

"AGH! Krang zombies!" Donnie screams.

Mikey roars back at the creatures and leaps off of Leo's shoulders at them --

Only to be caught midair by Raph, who grips him tightly and pulls him back.

"RUN!" he shouts loudly.

The team runs away from the horde, seeking whatever shelter they can get. Another group of krangified zombies start running from around a mountain of crushed-up cars, herding them towards the very back of the landfill.

"This way!" Donnie yells, leading them to a small building that Repo-Mantis works out of, trying to open the door. "It's locked!"

Raph creates a giant fist and punches the door down, revealing a cowering Repo-Mantis from the inside.

"Ack!! What're you doing here?!" the mutant bug man yells, jumping away from them. "What the heck is that thing with you?! It's not one of them, is it??"

"Donnie, get the door!" Raph bellows, ignoring the frightened villain and carrying Mikey over to another area of the room and setting him down. "Mikey, you stay here!"

Repo-Mantis stares at the double-mutated freak in fear, slowly scooting away.

"How long have they been here?!" April shouts as she helps to board up the windows, while Donnie creates a special ninpo door that bolts into the framework of the building.

"Three days!" Repo-Mantis sobs. "I've run out of onion rings and pork rinds!"

"You've been holed up for three days?!" Leo yells. "How are we supposed to get out of here?!"

"Why not use your portal swords?" April points out.

"Take me with you!" Repo-Mantis weeps, crawling on his hands and knees as he begs the heroes. "Please! I need to use an actual bathroom so badly!"

"Okay, ew."

"We can't just leave these guys here!" Raph rebukes. "We gotta take care of the horde, or else they'll just go after other innocent people!"

"Right, okay, so if I can make a quick portal to the lair -- April, Cass, you go get the formula and --"

The door shakes. The walls pound loudly, drowning out anything Leo says. The ceiling starts to cave in.

"Here they come!!" April screams.

Raphael stretches his arms out and backs everyone away from the door. One last stand...

The door holds. But the walls and windows do not. The monsters crash through, growling and howling as they all burst into the shabby shack.

Mikey unexpectedly scurries underneath Raph's legs and approaches the zombies. He roars at them, his scutes, scales, spines, and quills raised high and sharp, his talons extended and his fangs to their full length as he snaps and snarls at them.

"Mikey!" Raph yells.

Suddenly, he's back in the hall, and Mikey is about to fight an army of mutant, mangled animals, and turn into something terrifying that he should never have been forced to become...

"No! Not again!"

Mikey roars loudly at the krangified, and the horde freezes...

They stop.

They stare blankly at Mikey, who stands in between them and his family. He clicks angrily at them, his tail cracks like a whip. The horde slowly backs away. Mikey moves forwards, pushing the zombies back and out of the broken down hut they were invading. One of the bigger krangified zombies staggers forwards, growling at him, barking in defiance. Mikey roars in response.

Raph, Donnie, Leo, April, and Cassandra stumble outside to watch this strange altercation. Each member of the team dazed and confused as they watch Mikey. Repo-Mantis just runs the heck away while he still can.

The larger zombie rushes Michelangelo, who is more than ready for him. He swipes his tail under his legs, knocking him down instantly. His tail grabs the zombie and whips him around, throwing him into a pile of metal with a loud crash. The creature staggers and whimpers as it embarrassedly limps to the back of the horde...

Mikey howls at them again, and the krangified stand at attention, cowering under his gaze. Mikey's throat makes a deep and guttural clicking, a warning for them to stay in line or else.

"What... what is he doing...?" Leo asks, voice barely a whisper.

"It... it looks like an animalistic intimidation stance," Donnie responds, just as thunderstruck as his twin.

Mikey snarls at the horde, and they cease their offensive stances, slowly sitting or laying down on the ground at Mikey's command.

Mikey sits down as well, his scutes and scales lowering as he calms.

He turns his head, smiling brightly at his brothers. His tail wags with pride at a job well done.

"Mikey do good?"

Prev || Next

[starfall-spirit]

Read on Ao3 // Chapter II // Chapter III

Summary: Feyre takes some time to talk to one of her more reserved students, unveiling an adorable, yet heartbreaking Christmas wish.

OR

Rhys' little sister gets him a girlfriend.

AN: Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

Chapter I

Feyre

“Three, two—” The bell above the studio door chimed and Ressina swept out from behind the front counter to greet the first arrivals for the evening class. A rambunctious pair of boys, ages eight and five. “Hello, my lovelies, I’ve missed you!”

Ressina was wonderful with the kids and had a particular fondness for greeting the younger classes and getting them settled. Turning away, Feyre finished setting out the paint and water before sitting down to start a few designs in pencil for the children to paint over. Elves, gingerbread men, angels, and snowmen. She’d need to draw a few more once the little ones had picked out what they wanted to draw, but it was good to get a little extra done before the place turned into a madhouse. 

It didn’t take long for all ten students to arrive, crowding into the studio and stripping out of their winter coats before sitting down at the table. The parents—and brother, in little Avyanna’s case—were left to line the walls, conversing among themselves. “What’s that, Ms. Feyre?”

She smiled. Avy was the meekest voice of the group, a bit wary of the children around her, though she’d seen her laughing with a few of the other girls on occasion and she seemed to be making better social progress with each class. “We’ll be painting ornaments today. You get to pick your favorite design and paint it whatever colors you want. Then Miss Ressina and I will dry it here and give you some pretty ribbon when you come back next week so you can hang it on your tree for your family to enjoy.”

Her eyes widened, lighting up with excitement. “I’d like an angel. Please.”

Feyre gave her another warm smile. “I’ll set this in your spot. Go grab an apron so you don’t stain that pretty shirt.”

“I appreciate the foresight you ladies have for that.” 

Feyre jumped, turning to face the new speaker. At least after two months of classes she could keep from blushing like a fool around him. “Sorry. I didn't notice you Mr. Axton—”

“I think we’ve attended enough lessons to justify you calling me Rhys. I’m sorry to interrupt, but I need to head outside for a moment to make a call, if that’s alright?” 

“Of course. We’re all set here if you need to step out. She’ll be fine.”

“Excellent. Pardon me.” Ruffling his sister’s hair, he stepped back out into the cold, pressing the phone to his ear, a scowl on his face the next time he spoke.

“Do you like my brother?” Avy asked the next time she circled back to their group. A bit startled by the subject, she hesitated to answer. “He likes you, you know.” The statement was out of the blue, an absent thought as she started to paint the angel wings as precisely as any six year old could. “He doesn’t talk about it, but he watches you while we’re here. I think it would make him happy if you went on a date. Happier than he is now, at least.” She had a solemn look about her, her shoulders curving in slightly. “That’s all I want this Christmas. For him to do something that makes him happy.”

While the other children around them were distracted with each other and their art, the parents in hearing range had been following the one sided conversation and were either looking on with amusement at Feyre’s awkwardness or pity for the girl’s homelife. She couldn’t imagine it was easy, going into the holidays just months after losing their parents to a fatal highway crash. 

And how does one tell an elementary-schooler you can’t make people happy by dropping them into a spontaneous date with a stranger. “Sweetheart, I think you and your brother are going to have an amazing Christmas together, especially if you’re with those uncles you keep telling me about.”

“Just wait til he gets back. You’ll see.”

Rhysand

Even smudged with paint and charcoal, the shop owner was gorgeous. Gorgeous and amazing with his sister, which did nothing to help how distracted he was today, trying and failing to tune into the nonsense his uncle was spewing in his ear. “Your parents are dead, Rhysand. If you don’t get a move on—”

“Tell me again, Kier, how I should run this business more like my father. I’m dying for a reason to kick you off the board for good.” Silence. “You’d do well to remember who this company was bequeathed to.”

“Of course, Rhysand,” he ground out. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“Then don’t. Get me the contract��I requested. I’ll review it in the morning.” 

He shoved his phone back in his pocket, rolling his neck as he calmed himself. If there was one thing he prided himself on it was not letting this shitstorm bleed into his time with his little sister. She was still too young to understand the truth behind a lot that had happened in their life. A mercy and curse, as he was left to question how long he could live with himself, telling her their parents’ car crash was a highway accident.

It was the right call for now, but as her guardian, he still felt like shit. He looked back through the window, spotting Avy in the middle of the table, quiet and reserved among her peers. It was a work in progress, breaking the six-year-old of their father’s rigid teachings, but he had seen glimpses of the rowdy kid she could be once she realized it wouldn’t get her in trouble. 

He pushed back into the art studio, removing his jacket and taking the empty seat beside Avyanna. “How’s it going, Avy?”

“Good. Ms. Feyre’s been helping me. She did the pencil part, see,” she showed him, tracing her finger over the cartoonish pencil marks that outlined the angel design Avy had chosen. She frowned, setting her paintbrush on her paper towel. “Was that Uncle Keir again? You didn’t look happy outside.”

“Ah, I fixed what needed to be fixed. No trouble in sight. What are you painting?”

She was quiet for a moment, likely trying to determine if he was hiding something that should be her business. “An ornament. Miss Ressina has some pretty ribbon we can hang them with so I can take it home and put it on the tree.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan, Avy.”

“How are we doing over here?” Feyre asked the cluster of children, immediately receiving overlapping progress reports on various snowmen, angels, elves, and gingerbread men. 

His sister was still as a statue, looking almost guilty as her instructor checked the paint and water cups around the table. Both of them were doing an excellent job of refusing to make eye contact with him, and Rhys found himself missing the fleeting-yet-bright smile the art teacher normally gifted him once or twice a lesson. 

Avy was far too well-behaved to have made any trouble for the two women leading the weekly lessons and Feyre seemed naturally at ease with parents and students alike. Whatever had shifted would need to be addressed, but it could wait until they weren’t dealing with eavesdroppers. 

“You don’t have to hover, you know,” his sister said, a bit of snark rising in companionship to that guilt. “I can paint on my own.”

Rhys frowned, but respected her request, walking back around the table to stand on the opposite wall. “What am I missing here?” he muttered. 

A father to his right chuckled. “Other than your sister telling Feyre you have a crush on her loud enough for the room to hear, nothing much.”

“Oh, is that all?” His eyes slid back to Feyre. Though she had likely brushed off the prospect of a date with him, something had been said that was weighing her down and it didn’t seem to lift for the rest of the lesson. He honestly didn’t care what the other guardians thought about him staying after they had all shuffled out. “Avy, put on your coat and wait by the door for me, okay?”

“Are you  asking Ms. Feyre on a date?”

“Avyanna, door.” She scampered away and he let out a long sigh, earning a chuckle from Ressina. “Sorry.”

She shook her head. “Feyre, come out here for a moment.”

“Yeah, what’s… up. Hi, Mr.—” He clicked his tongue softly. Feyre sighed in surrender. “Rhys, what can I do for you?”

Ressina was courteous enough to take up whatever was left in the back, leaving Feyre and Rhys with only a six year old for company. “This evening, it came to my attention that my sister made some insinuations that caused you discomfort.”

Her eyes widened in panic. “No!” Blushing, she cleared her throat, stating more calmly, “No, it wasn’t uncomfortable. I just didn’t want to get her hopes up. I didn’t think there was much substance behind…”

“A six-year-old’s second-hand love proclamations?”

She bit her lip. “Something like that. She just… She said it was her Christmas wish for you to be happy. I didn’t want her thinking a good holiday season hinged on romance.”

He swallowed. Did he really come off as someone so miserable Avy said this was her Christmas wish? The business demands were putting him through the wringer, but he thought he was better at wearing a mask. “I appreciate that. All the same though, if you weren’t currently seeing someone… more accurately, if you were interested in going out… Are you free on Saturday?”

Feyre chewed her lip. “Are you asking me because you want to ask me, or just to appease a six-year-old, because I won’t be part of something that—”

He waived his hand in a motion ment to cut off her concern. “If I didn’t have feelings for you I would have nipped this in the bud and left the studio as soon as her ornament was set to dry. I like you, Feyre. So what do you say?”

“Saturday. Can you pick me up from here?”

~~~~~

Taglist: @lulling-night-sky // @edgyellie // @shallyne // @the-lonelybarricade // @darling-archeron // @goddess-aelin // @the-lost-changeling // @faeriequeensuriel // @pandavelaris // @s-uppertime // @elentiya-whitethorn // @acotar-fanns // @jealousveronya // @acourtofwips // @reverie-tales // @gwynkyrie // @corcracrow // @thelovelymadone // @rosanna-writer

[five-and-dimes]

✨💖Positivity chain! List 5 to 10 things that make you smile and explain why! Then send this to others to let them know they make you smile✨💖

Aaah thank you!

Critters! I love all animals, but I am fond of Little Guys. I grew up with pet rats- I've had eight over my life so far- and I had a hedgehog too. I love Big Dogs, and want one very badly someday, but I've never been in a situation where I can properly care for one. But Little Guys? I can fill my home with Little Guys and give them proper care while they give me cuddles and joy 😊 I have a lack of Little Guys currently, because I'm moving soon and didn't want to subject them to that, but once I move I will definitely be acquiring more Little Guys (I want to get rats again- truly I love them so much and think they make fantastic pets 💕)

Drawing- it might not seem like it for how little I get done, but I do love art and drawing! I'm trying to be more productive lately, and focus more on finishing the bigger projects as opposed to trying to force myself to just bust out "content". I love comic art and my dream is to publish graphic novels! So just being able to sit down and chip away at a story, even if I'm not showing it at fisrt... I love it!

Bad movies- Listen, I have a lot of fun being A Hater in a non-harmful way. I have no desire to go on tumblr and hate on anything publicly. I never want to ruin someone else's joy! But I LOVE hanging out at home with my roommate and watching silly goofy bad movies and laughing at how ridiculous they are. Or watching movies we personally don't like and going on long rants tearing it apart that last longer than the movie. Good movies are great, but I tend to lean towards fun in this economy. Bad monster movies especially are *chef's kiss*

Tattoos! I love everything about them! I love seeing other people's body art, I love designing my own (I only have one tattoo designed by someone else), I love designing tattoos for fictional characters, I love watching ridiculous over-dramatic tattoo shows, all of it! I would love to learn to tattoo someday, but my current brain makes me too anxious to do something permanent to someone else lol, so for now I appreciate from the other side of the needle.

Snow! I saw snow for the first time when I was 24-years-old and I lost my absolute SHIT. I shit you not, I had been convinced that snowflake shapes were made up for artistic purposes. Like, someone made it up to make snow more interesting for Christmas cards and paper cutouts. And then I held them in my hand and stared for like half an hour and my entire worldview changed. Even after all this time I still feel so much wonder and glee whenever it snows. Shoveling the driveway is my favorite chore.

And of course, my friends- both irl and online- never fail to make me smile, including you, @gabessquishytum! You, @cuubism, @seiya-starsniper, @pellaaearien, and @valeriianz - I appreciate you allowing me to harass you over dms and discord 😘💕

[humanradiojmp]

Blind Reaction to Episode 3 of TADC (without context)

Contains spoilers

I like how they’re all hanging out and spending time together. Does show they do things outside of the adventure and they’re (mostly) friends with each other

Could be wrong, but I think we’ve had a mini-time skip. I think it’s been at least a few days in between episodes. I was actually kind of hoping there’d be one in this episode, but can’t say for certain that’s the case

Soon you’ll realize there is no spoon

Wonder how useful these little things each of them have is

Apparently, the backward speech is “I can’t wait for the children in the audience to get horrible nightmares from the monster(s).”, I may be in my twenties, but you succeed.

Peggy? Isn’t that the main character from Sunset Paradise?

Same, Pomni. Same.

Ok, so maybe no time skip

He really wants Zooble’s approval. It’s his thing to entertain everyone, and everyone is not entertained

Who ya goin’ call? Ghostbusters!

I can kind of see the Murder Drones inspiration with that door. Or maybe it’s more the same effects used for the fleshy bits

Just because he can summon anyone he wants where he wants, he chooses not to. Despite doing horribly at the adventures and traumatizing everyone, he’s at least considerate to a degree

Yeah, definitely Bubble, not you

Me when trying to talk to someone but I’m autistic and can’t always articulate what I want well

I can’t believe I actually remember the random line out of context for Caine because I laughed

*flashes of scary faces* haha, I’m not going to enjoy this

I’m literally Pomni in this situation

Wait, he’s going to hunt the cast? Is he a secret cannibal or something like that?

Flashbacks to episode one

Watching it back, there’s actually a lot of foreshadowing of what the creature is in the office. Drawings, books, photos. Lots of blink-and-miss things

Lucid Kinger moment?

It’s gone, isn’t it?

This isn’t regular darkness. This is… advance darkness!

“What was that?” “Who do you think it was? it was me!” “Are… are you my conscience?”

Love the 2D effect of the eyes

me in several inappropriate settings

Me at night when it’s love bug season

Nope.

Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope! No-

I’m not kidding when I say I am not a big fan of horror, at all. I hid behind my Pomni plushy when the head was screaming

Checkmate Canon?!

That’s going to haunt me for a while

So Caine is aware and even admits he’s torturing the humans. He’s just doing it out of ignorance

Stop changing the subject!

The existential horror of being in a body that’s not your own and even with the allusion of being able to change it it’s essentially pointless is not the problem. The problem is the adventures!

What would happen if Caine abstracts? Half wonder if that’s what’s going to happen in the end of the series. With the circus being an extension of him, it’s a little scary to think about the implications

Poetic irony and tragedy with the main guy of this story

Obviously there’s some parallels between the made up story and whatever happened to Kinger. He’s getting more lucid with each tape and almost looks reminiscent and a tad bit guilty

Just ask nicely and the ghosts won’t bother you

These are tears of laughter and not because I’m scared *hugs plushy tighter*

The lore information really isn’t great with its timing and placement, but at the same time it is

They have great recording mechanics in the underworld

Martha!!!

Deserved. Probably tried to suck up Martha

Kind of half wished we got a full body look of Martha, mostly because I want to know how accurate my drawing is. But at least I was partially right on there being a lot of bows to her design.

*sees confetti* *previous episode flashbacks*

Is the hell she’s in metaphorical or literal? That’s the real question isn’t it?

And now she’s possessed

That’s why he was smacking Pomni with the gun

That’s just cruel, man

Kinger lore?

Pomni lore??

Who is He???

Checkmate Canon?!?!?!?!?!

I’m not crying, you are!

It’s canon *crying from happiness as well as the sad bit of the story we got*

It’s a bit unexpected that Quennie is the one who likes bugs. Pretty much everyone assumed it was Kinger, but it was the other way around

This! This is what I’ve been wanting for a long time! the importance of friendship and having other people around you. almost everything now made is like, super toxic, or only about the romance. What about the relationships of people would care for each other deeply without wanting to kiss or sleep with each other, or it being manipulative? Clearly I’ve been starving since Friendship is Magic ended, and now, I’m getting my fix.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy a good romance (emphasis on the good) as much as the next person, and there are definitely some toxic relationships that can make for good drama. I just… I don’t know, I want more wholesome platonic/familial relationships in media. is that too much to ask for?

Gooseworx, thank you

Legitimately though, why does he glow?

I also like the appreciative moment between Ragatha and Pomni. I actually hope they become the best of friends.

Sentient AI cannot understand expressions. Neither can I sometimes

And that’s episode 3

[pants-magic-pants]

✧⊹JARETH BALLROOM COAT⊹✧

[This post is part of a series about constructing Jareth's entire masquerade ball costume. Visit the master post here.]

The Nightmare of the Lace [Part 2 of 2]

In part two, we will explore the decoration of the lace pieces that would be sewn/stitched on top of the velvet of Jareth's ballroom coat. This moment in costume construction was all about peering deeply into exhibit photos, pondering, designing, and stitching beads for countless hours. It took at least a month or two to finish, but it was definitely all worth it. Read more below!

Creating a design -------------------------

Trying to map out what I was seeing in photos was a bit of a challenge. There's a lot going on. What's under there? Is there a point to adding the beads if you can barely see them? And the answer is: yes. Because in photos, their splendor is not captured. In person, they're beautiful, so if you were thinking of forgoing this step for your own costume, or any costume with what you may call "discreet" beading, I ask you to reconsider. They really add a magical dimension to your work.

ANYHOO, I put photos into a program, and tried to draw what was there, and it didn't seem to be anything more complex than random loops and fishhooks, which got a little more deliberate further down, where it was no longer covered by hot glue. Towards those buttons, they start to interact with and frame them.

Photo (c) Yosa Addiss

I’m sure you could come up with all sorts of cool designs that work, and you could get more complex, but me, I basically just made, uhhh… florally fishhooks. Hahaha But I did give them some… hm… some joints, so to speak? They’re a bit branchy. 

The designs were drawn on my original pattern pieces for the lace. I pinned the lace to these, then unpinned where I was working on, so I could work on it, lie it flat, and see which direction I was supposed to be going. An embroidery hoop might've been more ideal, but it wouldn't really work in this situation because I couldn't trace my design on the lace. Maybe thin paper could have gone into something like this, without tearing? But I didn't have one anyway so I just did it the way I did it.

There was less loyalty to my design when it came to the shoulder piece because it was so massive, and a lot of it would be so heavily under beads and jewels, there was no point in making it too specific – there just needed to be something the eye could catch sight of between small windows. 

At a certain point, the designs stop, and I had it marked off where I knew you would not be able to see them anywhere.

Selecting a bead -----------------------

The most obvious choice for something like this would be a kind of seed bead, which come in different sizes. What I chose was a size 11/0, which are only about 2mm wide. Proportions (how big everything looks within its context) matter as much as "objective accuracy", so even if the original had slightly larger beads for this, which I think it did, I also was making a very tiny coat, and definitely doing other math to decide on what size other decorations should be, so for me 11/0 made sense. If the coat itself were bigger, more firmly in the adult size range, a seed bead size of 10/0 or even 8/0 might've worked better.

In the original, there's also something a bit course about them. They may be oblong, like tiny pebbles. You can find seed beads like this, but by the time I realized that, it was too late. I did think mine seemed so very clean and consistent, but *raises hands*

Also, it seems as if they're all black, but I wanted to have a bit of fun, so mine were a mixture of 75% black and 25% dark iridescent. Photos make them seem silvery, but in person they appear faintly blue/green.

Stitching the beads ---------------------------

If you are new to stitching (as I was) and would like to do some for your project, any project, I would suggest learning the back stitching technique, as shown here. It was easy to get the hang of, and you can do curves, not just straight lines. I did anywhere from 1 to 4 beads in a row, caught a single thread of the lace, pulled the needle back towards what I had already stitched, and then stuck it through the last bead again before adding more. At extreme curves, only 1 or 2 could be done at a time, but in places where it was a more continuous trajectory with only a slight curve, I could get away with 4. At 5 beads, things looked a little too straight.

Here are a couple pictures on the journey:

It took a f*&^ng long time to complete this. For things like this, you go into it knowing you'll be chipping away -- you'll spend hours working on something, step back and look at it, and go "oh.. okay... that little part is done. woo---hoo..."

Long-term tedious projects can scare people away, and I understand that, as someone who feels overwhelmed by her thoughts and what she wants to do, often. It was easier to get this part done by pairing it with something else that I could enjoy and that would engage my mind while my hands were busy. So, for a little while, it was my hobby to stitch while listening to Better Call Saul, which I'd seen before, but I'm also a huge Breaking Bad universe fan so revisiting it again and again is a pleasure. I'm sure you could pair your projects with all kinds of stuff: shows, movies, audiobooks, podcasts, youtube channels. I love a good story, but I also love to learn, even just passive learning, having people discussing something interesting in the background while I do whatever it is I'm doing. It becomes a joint hobby (some kind of engaging content + your project) which you can look forward to and appreciate as a ritual.

Moving on, here’s some of the finished pieces before they were added to velvet:

Some trimming was done afterwards, to make the lace's edges look less blocky, especially around the shoulders.

That concludes the seed bead business. But, if you look in front, despite that the lighting is not our friend, you may see that there are extra designs comprised of larger, more raised beads/cabochons. I edited this photo and upped the contrast:

Photo (c) Aria Couture

It’s not clear. My take on it was that they were black, shiny cabochons, so that is what I used. Really basic cheap ones. They seem to be placed in synchrony with the seed beads. Some are in wavy streaks. Other, large ones are stand-alone, but never too close to the buttons. I added these with hot glue before the assembly process.

Voila!

Attaching to the coat -----------------------------

This part was the true hell of the process, as mentioned in the first post about the lace. The plan originally was just to (very carefully, and with buffer fabric between the sewing machine foot and edge of the bead design) combine velvet and lace pieces, at the seam allowances that had been created for them.

However, there was slight distortion and shrinkage of the pieces because of all the bead stitching, and I did not know ahead of time what to do to avoid any issues this may cause. In retrospect, the lace pieces shouldn't have been exact replicas of the velvet pattern pieces... they should have been a teeny, tiny bit larger in all directions, with generous seam allowances. Because I had no foresight about this, it was difficult to attach the lace to the velvet without falling short, or tugging on the velvet in random places where warping had occurred.

Combine that with the impossibility of keeping these two fabrics still, and you have the reason for these posts' names: the nightmare of the lace. It would not stay still, and there was not enough of it.

My solution for this project was to expand some of the lace pieces by sewing more lace onto the edges (dear god it was so silly), and place a non-slippery fabric in between velvet and lace, baste it, sew it, and then cut away the middle fabric, so that it wouldn't go past the seam allowance, effectively hiding it once it was sewn into the garment. *heavy sighing*

Once all the hell of getting these pieces attached to the velvet was past, what I ended up with when it came time for assembly was a standalone collar and two standalone cuffs (velvet + lace). There was the lace shoulder piece by itself, which went in first (since the shoulder seam is one of the first places you start when assembling a coat), and there were the two lapels, which were stitched to the top of the inner facing velvet. 

You see how much that seam allowance struggled?! -->

Those pieces were large and strange-looking, and connecting each part of them in the right order just so was key to the whole coat looking good. Because of the slipperiness of the material, I needed to work downward, so first the top of the inner facing pieces were married with the collar and outer fabric. Then I had to baste-stitch the seam with the zipper inside, turning it back right-side out each stitch to check that there were no hiccups and that the zipper was discreet. The right angle between the front and the tails was another tricky spot, because clipping the lace diagonally was the only way to get it folded into that seam. 

AND THEN, ULTIMATELY, I gave up on sewing the lace into the seam! Folded it around and stitched it inside because it was tugging and slipping and all its usual fuckery.

The last thing that needed to be done to the lace was to stitch it down anywhere else where it would need to lie flat. The lapel lace folded inward in a curve parallel to the lining. The back drips needed three easy stitches. The lace is free-falling past the armpits, but around the waist area it was also tucked back and stitched there. 

It seems as if Jareth’s own coat has windows cut out of the lace in front, near the buttons, but for me, I was so sure that it would have disrupted the delicate balance and caused drooping in random places, that I just forwent it. 

And there you have it! This feels like it was too long, but maybe it’s not because it is really so important to talk about this part. There are a million ways to screw it up, that I myself didn’t always escape from. As always, I hope that was, erm, helpful.

-J 

[fernandidilly-yo]

A Mostly Unbiased Review of Netflix’s Avatar The Last Airbender:

I had avoided any spoilers/trailers/press releases of this show for the sole purpose of being as unbiased as I possibly could. I knew absolutely nothing about this show going in. I was doing my best to give it a fair chance, even with the past live-action’s corpse hanging over our heads.

So, as an og Avatar fan, here’s is my overly annalistic take on Netflix’s Live Action Avatar Series. In as neat of a chronological order as I can give them.

(Heavy Spoilers)

Wish they would have let Katara do the opening credits like she did in the show, it was a good way of giving her depth and showing what kind of person she was, someone filled with hope.

But I can forgive it.

Love the costume and set designs, you can see the love and care that went into making them.

Love that we got to see more of the Air Nomads.

And the fact that there was a Comet Festival makes a lot of sense actually.

I also really appreciate Aang and Gyatso’s relationship, the lines “can’t I just keep pretending I’m your friend?” and “you are my friend…you will always be my friend.” Actually straight up killed me.

The line brought to life just how young Aang is, a twelve-year-old boy. Which made it all the more gut-wrenching.

However, all this build up, Aang and Gyatso’s scene, showing us the genocide, it felt like it was leading to something.

But when Aang is triggered into the Avatar State upon seeing the destruction of his home…it fell very flat.

He had more emotion at finding out he was the Avatar than he did seeing his people massacred…Netflix, would it have killed you to use some fake tears, have the kid emote, let him scream a little?

I don’t think I’m asking for much.

Zuko’s scar who? I don’t see her.  

I like the awkwardness that the actor brought to Sokka’s character, felt real for a teenage boy and he played it well.

Gran Gran straight up taking lines from the show. I like it, and the fact that Gran Gran was the one that originally told Katara the legend, it fits.

This however, is some of the only times they use any lines from the original show. :\

Love Zuko’s room. Top Teir. Artist Zuko is kind-of-canon, and I am here for it. Love the dragon scales, the notes, the drawings and maps on the walls.

And I also love, love, love that Zuko has trinkets from his travels, as well as Avatar artifacts. 🤌

I’m sorry but why do Sokka and Katara’s necklaces look like they’re made of plastic? Do better, Art Department.

Shout out for giving Katara her hair-loopies.

Also, credit to the Make Up Department, you somehow made Aang’s arrow look like the shows while still giving it more detail. Something that was apparently impossible in 2010.

Also! Asian/Native people exist! Something that also didn’t seem to be true in 2010!

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Eight

A much anticipated box arrives in the post one chilly November morning, and Simon attacks the brown tape with a stanley knife as soon as it hits his desk. I hover behind him vibrating with nervous anticipation as he peels open the flaps to reveal blocks of white card, vacuum packaged into individual piles. He lifts the first one out and drops it into my hands. “Have a look at those.”

I jam my thumbnail into the plastic and rip it away with a fervour to reveal my first Christmas card design. Merry Christmas is printed across the front with a jaunty, diagonal tilt. Every centimetre of space around it is taken up by stylistic holly leaves and bright red berries, and in between those are the little gold stars and dots I spent far too long drawing in with meticulous detail on the drawing tablet that I borrowed from Gabriel. Here it is, my hard word manifest. I smooth my hand over the top card and sigh with satisfaction. They look good. 

“Nice.” Simon comments. “No print errors so far.”

“Yeah, great.” I say. “How are the rest?”

He shuffles through the box to pull out five more stacks. Five more designs I slaved over, and each one of them is perfect. If he thinks it’s odd that I sink to my knees onto the floor and hold the cards like they’re my children he doesn’t say so. He just starts clearing up the rubbish around me, mercifully ignoring the proud tears that have sprung to my eyes. I pull out my phone and take a picture for Claire, for Shane and for Jude. 

I did it!

Their excited responses are just starting to come in when Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He has an annoying ringtone that distracts me far too much from my excitement. He picks it up. 

“Hey Shell what’s up? 

I bring the cards over to my desk and start unpacking them, sorting them into stacks with the correct envelopes as he has his loud conversation. 

“Hang on what- really? Oh shit, what- okay but who-” Simon makes moves towards the stairs, and the urgency of his movements makes me snap to attention. “Do you know where she is exactly?” He disappears out of earshot, and I’m left staring at the staircase where he was only a moment before. I catch Izzy’s eye. She’s frowning with concern, a deep line carved between her brows. “Do you think it’s something about Jen?” she asks me, and I shrug. “I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going on with her.”

“Oh.”

Simon comes back into the studio about five minutes later without saying a word. He hunches over his desk and yanks his sketchbook out in front of him. I listen to the sound of him tapping a pencil on the pages, drawing nothing, but I pretend not to notice. It’s minutes before his phone rings again, and he doesn’t move from his desk to answer it this time. 

“Yeah? Oh, she did. Where did she say she was then?” A hassled sigh. “What? Like, how did she even- well no it’s not like you can just get a bus there, can you? …And your dad? …No, okay, obviously. Well, look… yeah but like, the taxi will cost a bloody fortune, I mean like a fortune. Surely you know someone with a licence?”

I continue sorting out the envelopes, trying very hard not to eavesdrop on Simon, but even with his hushed tones he’s making it impossible not to. 

“Yeah, I mean, I’ll ask.” He’s saying now, doubtfully. “Y-yeah I know. Fine, yeah, okay it makes sense.” He hangs up after another minute and from the side of my gaze I watch him get up from his seat and make his way across the room to where Izzy is working at the press. He speaks to her in a low voice, but I’m close enough to hear every word. 

“Izzy, I’m so sorry to ask, but you’re able to drive, aren’t you?”

She hesitates. “Yeah, I can.”

“Look, there’s just this thing with Jen, Michelle is really worried about her, she’s way out in some house in Wicklow somewhere and it sounds dodgy, I-”

“I don’t own a car, Simon.”

“Right but you could borrow Michelle’s dad’s car. I hate to ask because I know you’re flat out busy this week, but-”

“I’ll do it.” I hear myself saying, and they both whirl around to stare at me. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be eavesdropping or anything but I’ll do it. I have nothing important to do today,” I quickly eye the mess around Gabriel’s desk. “I can drive, and I know Jen.” There’s silence. “Seriously. I’ll do it.”

“You have a licence?”

“Do I look like I don’t have one?”

Simon looks a bit resigned, but he nods anyway. “Alright, fine, works for me.”

We take the bus across the city and into Clontarf together, not saying much despite being smushed together into the cramped seats on the upper level. I stare out over the sea as we move along the coast. It’s been years since I’ve been here, and the autumn has turned it duller, sparser than I remember it being that late summer when I visited. I can’t resist a glance up Jude’s avenue as we clamber off the bus and head down the main street towards Michelle’s house. I can’t see the beautiful Georgian house from the seafront like this, and I know he’s not there, but still, for a moment I let a shiver pass through me, briefly transported to another time. 

Michelle lives in a solid, 1930s red brick house with the trees that line the edges of St Anne’s park within view of the front door. It’s an old, leafy suburb with neat piles of raked leaves on the narrow strips of lawn that separate the footpaths from the road. She’s waiting at the door when we arrive, her thumbnail lodged between her teeth. 

Simon gently lifts her hand away and kisses her forehead. “All good, Shell?” She nods. “Youse took ages.”

“I know, it was just the bus.” 

I raise a limp hand to wave at her from where I stand awkwardly by the bins, and she waves back. “God, thanks so much for doing this, Evie. I know it’s a bit crazy.”

“It isn’t. I don’t mind. I just hope that Jen is alright.”

“Yeah, same.”

“What happened?”

“Ugh!” She rolls her eyes and pulls the door closed behind her. “It’s Pamela again, it was hard to tell exactly what happened because Jen was so upset on the phone, but I think they had a fight while at a party at this weird house out in the back arse of Wicklow and Pamela drove off and left her there.”

“Oh my god what?”

Michelle tosses the car keys to me and I barely manage to catch them, jingling around as I scramble to pluck them out of the air. “Yeah, Pamela is a fucking bitch. It’s not the first time she’s done something like this.”

“Does Jen even know the people at the house?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest. I don’t care either. I just want to go and get her, she didn’t sound good at all.” 

I nod at that and we all climb into Michelle’s dad’s car. I have to adjust the seat to give myself more leg room. He must be a very small man. Simon takes the passenger seat on account of his long legs, and Michelle climbs into the back. It takes me a few minutes to get used to it, accustomed to the specific way that my dad’s car works. Where his car needed a knack to start it, this one roars to life smoothly. Where his car has a sticky gear stick, squeaky windscreen wipers and moss growing on the window rubber, this one is clean and sleek and easy. The glove compartment even has both hinges intact and there aren’t any ancient stains, but still, I struggle with the sensitivity of it, the altered position of the reverse gear, and we sputter and start all the way from the driveway to the estate exit. My face burns up, but neither Simon nor Michelle say anything in acknowledgement.

When we’re out on the open road it’s easier. I don’t mention that I’ve never driven in Dublin before, but I doubt there is a need to. It’s probably all over my face, with every wince when a cyclist wobbles into my lane, or a hassled sigh when other cars refuse to let me merge, but once we hit the motorway I relax. Still, I feel very small in this big car, like a little girl behind the wheel, doing something too big and too important to be appropriate.

Michelle has the address of the house on her phone, and she directs the whole way, as dual carriageway becomes a singular lane, and as a slip road takes us from narrow road to narrower, until the road is flanked with a canopy of rust coloured trees, dappled late morning sun on the hood of the car. We drive for an hour without the radio on. Just quiet, until eventually we reach a small town with grey buildings on both sides of the road. There is an internet café and a pizza takeaway with a cartoonish Italian man painted on the window. 

“There ought to be an estate up here.” Michelle pipes up from behind me. “On the right.” 

“That’s where she is?”

“I hope so. She stopped responding to my messages half an hour ago.” Her voice cracks a little there, and Simon reaches back to comfort her. “She’s fine, Shell. Don’t worry about it. Where could she have gone?”

It’s a large estate. There is a hill that rises high over the town, and I swing around a labyrinth of roundabouts and side roads, sure that without sat-nav I would never find my way out of here again. I mount the curb outside a house that looks exactly like all the others, save for the overgrown lawn. Simon gets out of the car and bangs on the door. 

“Should we get out?” I say. 

“Probably not” Replies Michelle. “Simon will handle it.” We both watch him wait there. There is a lump beneath my ribs that grows with every passing second, unable to take my eyes off the door, trying to ward off any unhelpful thoughts for the sake of Michelle, and then the door swings open, and Jen is there. 

I can’t hear their conversation, but I can see Jen wringing her hands and nodding at him. It’s the first time I’ve seen her since Izzy’s gig, and she seems even smaller now than she did then, even in the way that she holds herself, hands clutched around her body, shoulders hunched forward like she’s trying to turn herself into the tiniest woman alive. Simon comes back to open up the back door for her and the moment she climbs inside Michelle has her arms around her neck and is stroking the back of her hair. 

“Jen.” She says hoarsely. “What the hell?”

“I’m sorry.” Jen says in a voice just above a whisper. “I know, I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry. You didn’t do anything wrong.” She sniffs loudly. “It’s Pamela who should be.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Simon climbs into the passenger seat next to me, very quietly so as to not disturb them, and we sit there stoically, staring straight ahead. Jen is crying now too, swiping her face with her sleeves and whimpering. I watch Michelle in the rear view mirror, pulling the sleeves of her sweatshirt over her hands and helping, makeup dried onto her best friend’s face in grey streams. 

“Maybe we should get going.” Simon says to me in a low voice, and I nod, staring up the engine and gingerly pulling away from the curb. 

“Oh, God. Evie.” Jen says, noticing me for the first time. “You drove all the way out here? What-”

“It’s alright, nobody else has a licence. I’m happy to do it. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“God, this is bonkers. I can’t believe you had to do this.” She bursts into tears again, causing Michelle to cluck over her, gently shushing her, pulling her wet face into her shoulder. 

“Jen.” She’s saying softly. “This can’t keep happening. Pamela doesn’t treat you nicely. Someone who loves you like she says she does, she’d never drive away and leave you in a house full of strangers like that.”

“Yes, I know.”

“You have to think about what’s best for you, the happiness that you deserve. She doesn’t deserve you. She doesn’t treat you nicely.”

“I know, I know.” Jen says in a voice that makes me wonder how many times they’ve had this very conversation before. “You’re right.”

“Who are those people?”

“Her friends from somewhere. I don’t know. Or maybe not her friends, even. She buys drugs from them.”

“And what,” Michelle says carefully, calmly. “That’s what you were doing these last two days? Just partying and doing drugs?”

Jen makes a small sound of agreement.

“And then?”

“I pissed her off. I said something stupid, and she got annoyed with me. She thinks I embarrassed her in front of everyone else. We argued, and then she eventually left. I probably was annoying. I can be that way.”

My palms tighten on the steering wheel and my heart suddenly palpitates in my chest. I try to take a deep, steadying breath and focus as we pass through the grey village and back onto the country roads. 

“No matter what you said, Jen, you didn’t deserve to be left alone with strangers.” Michelle continues soothingly. She’s good at this, I realise, good at hiding her true fury at Pamela and showing up as the supportive, reasonable best friend instead. “Can’t you see that? Nobody deserves that. What time did she leave you?”

“Last night, around midnight maybe.”

A pause. “So you were there all night?”

“Yeah, but it was fine. I’m sure she would have come back eventually, once she cooled down, I just got a bit overwrought, I had a panic attack, that’s why I called you. Actually, it’s not as big of a deal as I made it out to be.”

I squeeze my eyes shut for a moment and take a shuddering inhale. My hands are so tight around the wheel that they’re starting to hurt. Simon glances at me. “You alright, Evie?”

“I’m fine.”

“You sure?”

I let my breath out slowly and say as quietly as I can: “It’s just… it’s hard for me to hear that.”

“What? About Pamela?”

“About how Jen explains it away.”

He stares at me, and then looks away. One small nod of understanding, and he doesn’t ask any more. “If you need to stop the car and get some air, it’s alright, you know.”

“Thanks.” 

I drive on. 

I don’t think about Dean if I can help it, but still, sometimes those putrid memories resurface and leave me feeling sick to my stomach. Even now, when I’m so far from that place I taste bile in my throat, remembering the dim haze I existed in when he was there, casually tearing me apart with his searing words each time I saw him, the terror that slowly grew in me like mould, insidious, worsening day by day until I was afraid to say anything at all. Afraid to do anything wrong, to even touch him in a way that he suddenly decided that he didn’t like. 

“You’re no fun at all.” He said one morning as I headed for the shower. “You just lie there quietly. I’d have a better time with my hand.”

“Okay.” I said. “I’m sorry about that.” and I went to wash him off me. 

The memory scorches me. Tears spring to the corners of my eyes and begin to blur the motorway ahead, and I blink them away fiercely. I can’t think about this. 

I can’t think about this. 

I can’t think about this. 

“Evie.” Simon’s voice reaches me, and to my surprise his hand is bridging the distance between us and laying on my shoulder. “We can stop. You look a bit unwell.”

I glance in the mirror at Jen, falling asleep on Michelle’s shoulder now, pale and wan and thin and worse than I am. I shake my head. “It’s fine. Let’s just… can we stick on the radio?”

“Yeah, no bother.” He flicks on some golden oldies station and we coast onwards towards the city to the sound of Neil Young’s guitar. 

“If you feel like lying down, mam has your room made up.” Michelle says as we bring Jen inside. It’s only the early afternoon. Her parents are still at work and the house is empty, and neat, and ordered and the kind of place that makes me feel like taking my shoes off, but everybody else leaves them on, so I do too. 

“Thanks. Maybe in a while.” Jen says, and shuffles into the living room. As she brushes past me I get the scent of her clothes. Tobacco, that strong, overpowering smell that can only be from a place where smoking is allowed indoors. I follow her and sit with her on the couch while Michelle heads for the kitchen to make something for us all to eat. Simon hovers between rooms for a few moments before deciding to follow his girlfriend, leaving Jen and I alone. 

“Thanks so much for coming to get me, Evie.” She says. “Honestly, I’m so embarrassed that you had to get involved at all. I feel like a fool.”

“Don’t.” I insist. “I would have never left you there.”

“Well, I think it’s obvious enough that I shouldn’t have even been there. It was so stupid.”

“It wasn’t, I get it.”

She lets out a long, enervated sigh and sinks into the sofa, and her eyes flutter shut, and it’s peaceful and completely quiet save for the birds outside and the occasional sound of dry leaves scraping across the driveway. She must be utterly exhausted. As I look at her face, pale and wan, I imagine her all alone in that strange house, up all night waiting for Pamela to come back. Sure that she would, then not quite so sure anymore, realising that she was stuck, and the inevitable dread that must have accompanied her.

When I don’t think she’ll speak again she says to me gently. “I’m sorry we fell out of touch. I didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“Oh, God, Jen no. Please don’t even worry about that now. It doesn’t matter at all, and it was my fault anyway, I was going through a weird phase.”

“I should have been there more, but I just… I didn’t really know if I had any right to intervene.”

“I was alright, Jen. I worked it all out.”

“I always liked you a lot. You’re a nice girl.”

I smile. “I liked you a lot too.”

“We should have been friends.”

“I know.”

She tilts her head and looks at me, and her mouth curves into a humorous little smirk. “I’ve always been sorry that it wasn’t easier with us. I have this friend, you see, and he has this long habit of complicating things with the girls I want to befriend.”

I huff out a laugh. “I have no idea who you mean.” 

“Mmm, I’m sure you don’t.”

“I didn’t think you still called him your friend.” I say.

“He’s changed his tune lately, and has started complicating things with me instead, I suppose you could say, but,” A shrug. “I’d say we’re… well, it’s all a bit up in the air. Ask me again in another while. I don’t know.”

“Oh right.”

“You were talking to him at Izzy’s gig.” She says, curiosity in her eyes. “Are you back on speaking terms again?”

“Yeah, we are. A little bit.”

“Has he mentioned me?”

“Not really.”

“Ah. Is he still with Astrid?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” And she reaches for my hand to place it into her lap and turns it face up. She pulls my fingers so they’re stretched out flat and then traces the lines of my palm. 

“I can’t read palms.” She says. “But if I could, yours would say, hm, unless you go out and ask for the things that you want, you can’t expect the universe to give them to you.”

I laugh. “That’s specific.”

“Wow, yeah, crazy.” She says as she pretends to examine me further. “That’s the same line that Jude has.”

“Is that so?”

“Yeah, his palm also tells him to cop on for once and be honest with himself, but I’d be surprised if he did. For a smart boy he’s so unbelievably stupid sometimes.”

I draw my hand away and rest it in my lap again, and this joke scenario doesn’t feel quite so funny all of a sudden. Jen knows, but she’s calm beside me, and her gaze is steady and insistent. “He doesn’t make good choices, he’s just like that, he probably won’t get his head screwed on right until he’s in his thirties. It’s nothing to do with you. He’ll keep choosing girls that are wrong for him.”

“You think Astrid is wrong for him?”

“Astrid’s completely gorgeous, but have you ever spoken to her?”

I shake my head.

“She’s not funny. She’s nice, and she’s very clever and capable and mature and all of that, but in all of the time I’ve spent with her over the last three years, not once has she ever told a joke, or a funny story or said something in an even slightly funny way. She’s dull, Evie. I honestly never got what the appeal was.”

“I’m sure there’s more to her than meets the eye.”

“You mean she’s good in bed or something?”

Heat flares in my cheeks. “Well I didn’t mean that, but I suppose maybe. He must be going out with her for legitimate reasons that outweigh her non-existent sense of humour.”

“We all know, love, all of his friends know why, and it because he’s literally not able to be on his own. He hates being single, he always said that it made him feel uncomfortable to be by himself. Astrid was just there.”

“I’m sure he’s crazy in love with her too, though.” I don’t know why I’m choosing to defend a woman who was nothing short of blatantly unpleasant to me outside the café on one of the only occasions that I met her, but I simply can’t fathom the Jude that I know making a shallow choice based on convenience. 

“Yeah, as much as you can be in love with a person who you’re completely incompatible with. She’s Sagittarius” Jen stares at me as if this proves everything, but I shrug. “I don’t know what that means.”

“It means they can’t understand one another fundamentally, Sagittarius can’t date Scorpio, it just never works out, but you, you’re Pisces. You’re both sensitive, artistic little water signs. You’re perfect for each other. It’s legitimately written in the stars.” 

“I think he and I have probably moved past the possibility of anything happening.”

“Do you want it to?”

I hesitate, because I do. Of course I do, it feels like in my whole life I’ve never really wanted anyone or anything as badly as I’ve wanted him, the boy who made every other crush I’ve had in my life seem completely laughable, conjuring up feelings inside me that I only thought existed in movies, but I am terrified of my feelings for him, and terrified of finding out that he might return them. 

“He’s still with her.” I say.

“I think he’ll figure out what he really wants sooner or later.” 

“Well I think it’s silly to talk about this.”

“Whatever, chick.” Her eyes slide away from mine and she tilts her head to gaze out the window, through the venetian blinds out to the suburban scene, and I meet eyes with a porcelain dog on the mantelpiece, next to a dutch clock with a rotating pendulum that twists back and forth, back and forth in centrifugal motion. Jen checks her phone to find no new messages. 

“I know how it feels to care a lot about a person who doesn’t treat you very nicely.” I say in sympathy, and she doesn’t move, or look at me, and her hands, with nails chewed down to the quick, tighten around her phone. “I know.” she says. “But sometimes it feels like a miracle to be wanted by anybody at all.”

A lump forms in my throat and my heart flutters. “Yeah, I get that.” I swallow convulsively. “But feeling like that doesn’t make it true.”

“But things are different when you aren’t beautiful and you can’t just have what you want.”

Something clatters loudly in the kitchen and we both snap around to look in the direction of the french doors. 

“Sorry.” Michelle calls out. “Dropped a tray in the sink.” and Simon’s shadow moves across the frosted glass as he reaches for the handle.

“Evie.” Jen says suddenly, soberly, and my eyes flick to hers again. “Don’t tell Jude about what happened today. Don’t tell him where I was or what you had to do to help me.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, please, just like, as a favour.”

I hesitate. “I suppose.”

“I can’t handle it if he knows. He gets too emotional. He’ll call me, and I can’t talk to him right now.”

“Okay, yeah. I’ll keep it between us.”

She visibly relaxes again. “Okay, good. Thank you.”

“No problem” I’m saying, just as Michelle and Simon come back into the room with a tray laden down with our lunch. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[booksandchainmail]

Pale 11.2 extra

I just want you to know I’ve been trying to be my best self and do good in the world and if there’s something that ends up keeping me from coming back to you guys I hope you know that at least.

this bit is incredibly sad to me. "If I died, I died doing the right thing" is actually a pretty good ending, but coming from a kid it's just bleak

All the not listening you did and the ignoring me and everything? I forgive you for that and I think I understand

I wonder how this will feel going on? I imagine that even if Avery is glossing over this a bit for her parents to not feel guilty, she must have done some final sour searching to reach this point. It must be weird to come to terms with everyone in your life, be prepared to not leave regrets behind, and then get to keep on going with the clean slate

Sheridan, you had my back when it counted and I can’t tell you what it means to me, or how it changed the idea of what family is in my head. You get so down on yourself but you’re so so so much better and cooler than you think you are.

oh... that;s really sweet

A beautiful woman once told me I was on the cusp of losing my connection to humanity.

lol at specifying beautiful

no comments on the rest of Avery's letter to Ms. Hardy because I'm tearing up

If I can escape the chaos do you want to hang? We can hang out with Sir and chat art orrrr We could hang out and you can take your shirt off and I can draw you orrrrrrr We could hang out and we both take our shirts off and we can pretend we’re confused about who is supposed to be painting who before finding something else to do

smooth

I told Lucy and Avery and a woman called Miss to pass on a password for a gallery I sent you.  You’re my designated replacement if anything happens and that gallery has the big rundown.  Yep, you thought you were getting to know me?  That was all the tip of the iceberg, buddy.

I'm picturing Jeremy opening this, reading it, and realizing that a girl who was a pretty new friend in his life had no outside contact closer than him

On that note? I’m writing this under the assumption that they’re there. Avery Kelly and Lucy Ellingson. No other end result is okay in my books.

oh Verona

Care and Feeding of Lucy Ellingson and Avery Kelly: I liked the headline but because I wrote it I gotta let you know the feeding part: Lucy gets into stuff like pepperoni sticks and sour foods and things that make you go WOAH (except garlic and onions apparently) and it’s all intense and crap but when you get down to it I think she likes sweet and savory stuff most.  Avery is a vegetarian and she can eat next to anything you could call food, now, but I think what matters is that it comes from a place of care. She likes fruity flavors and mellow stuff. If Lucy’s down and out and needs nourishment to get back in the game then a chance to have a savory home cooked meal or a sweet treat she can spend a bit enjoying would do it for her.  For Avery, just the fact that you notice she’s down and out is important and then you can hand her a sports drink or something and she’ll be up for more.

aww, funny and cute that she's leaning into this bit, deeply touching that she knows this about them

[Tash is] about three years older than us she’s super cool enough I wouldn’t blame you for getting a crush on her. 😉

... yeah that's fair! Don't know how Jeremy would feel about the eyes, but I love that it's not a factor for Verona

If you bring me back as a composite echo and someone wants to take me as a familiar to help clarify me further then I’m down.

what the hell. I mean a good backup plan! But a hell of a lot of pressure to drop casually at the end of this letter

If not or if that’s weird then don’t sweat it.  Thanks for being a friend.

or don't resurrect me if you don't want! wild.

I got lucky because home was the place I could come back to to unload the small things, instead.  This was pretty close to perfect. Except I haven’t come home to unload this time, if you’re reading the letter.

yeah tearing up again

Zed has agreed he’ll fill you in if someone needs to.  He knows most of the story and it’s easier for him to answer your questions than for me to explain everything here.  Imagining you going through my stuff and uncovering it all with a terrible look on your face is making this too hard to write.

Interesting to me that Lucy is the only on who leaves information for her mom to take action, I guess because neither Verona or Avery feel that their parents are particularly useful

As a last ditch effort if the cops fail and Avery and Verona are gone you can contact a man I listed on the sheet. His name is Samaniego and he organizes people who hunt monsters like one of the ones I’m about to fight.

damn that's a nuclear option. But I suppose if all the girls are dead there's no point in playing fair or easy

I don’t want this to end without there being justice.  If I was capable of accepting any other answer then I think this might be the point I gave up.  I could let Edith win, I could choose the option where I didn’t risk me dying and you having to find this letter. I can’t.  I can’t let the people who would do that get what they want and take any more power or get any more influence.

Lucy... I love how much her principles come through in this. Avery may be the soft heart in the group and Lucy all business in her letter, but peel back the focus and drive and you get this moral determination

This can’t end without justice of some sort.

[destinygoldenstar]

Ninjago: Crystalized Redemption (Calling All Artists)

You guys asked for it.

Yes, I have officially started the work of a full on season rewrite of the final season of Ninjago: Masters of Spinjitsu.

I say 'final' because Dragons Rising is a sequel show. Kind of like the Star Wars sequel trilogy. That doesn't count.

I think we can all agree that an 11 year story we've all grown up with deserves a better conclusion that ties everything together into a grand finale that's entertaining, action packed, heartfelt, and maybe a tear jerker?? (We'll have to see)

I swear there's more cartoons that's endings crash and burn than ones that actually work. (Star Vs, Steven Universe, blah blah other stuff) What is up with that?

In actuality, and this may come as a shock, I don't hate this season as much as everyone else seems to, though I do agree with pretty much all the complaints. I think Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitsu is a worse season personally. But Crystalized has a lot more requirements to fulfill than that, and is even more disappointing as a result.

And I do have experience with rewrites, as I also rewrote Total Drama Action, which you guys seemed to really like that. So thanks for the confidence.

However, this has far higher stakes than that... my luck.

Anyway, I am currently working on the outline of the rewrite as we speak. It is still going to be 30 episodes, 11 minutes each. However, some episodes will not have the same titles as canon, because from my structure so far, it's not the same as the show.

The rewrite will be posted here, and we will be going episodic once we feel the rewrite is good and ready, so stay tuned.

And here's the purpose of this post:

You know in my TDA rewrite posts where I had some of those bad quality images showcasing a scene?

I'm going to allow fan artists to get a moment to shine and shed some love to the show with this.

And also help with criticisms towards my outlines and drafts of the rewrite, to make this work. Or if you have any crazy ideas for the story you want to suggest.

On a discord, I have a server for artists and potential writing editors.

This is where I'll be posting my outlines for episodes when I get them done, and on that server, artists can draw out the scenes. (Any scene, from the show or a completely new scene I add)

If I think the artwork is good, I'll add it to the post of the episode where viewers can get a great visual of the rewrite, and you will get a shoutout for your Tumblr blog.

This is also a place for said artists to suggest ideas for the narrative or scenes, so I can get a perspective on what people want to see. Criticize my outline or drafts so I can fix that before I officially post the episode, or otherwise.

Any art style will be allowed. You can replicate the show's style, or do your own, I will allow that. I do have some rules with that and it will be said on the discord too: Age appropriate. This is still a kids media. (Very high chance your work won't be on the post if you break that rule) In terms of non-lego artstyles, in the discord we will agree on a certain look for certain characters so that the story is consistent. We're not gonna have one image with massive bulky Cole and another where he's the same side as the others, that's what I'm getting at. We'll decide collectively what works, and I'll have some people make specific character designs as a board for other artists to use.

Also, this is unpaid. This gonna be for fan artists who love the show and want to help me give Ninjago the ending it deserved. And if they just want to get recognized and credited for their work.

What's on the discord stays on the discord and should not be posted on any other platform, unless you go to me first and get permission. We'll see what happens ninja artists.