#my dad's side is...well let's just say there are a long list of reasons why my dad is the only one to communicate with them. when his

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

I'm 99% ready for Samhain/Halloween.

The ancestor shrine is usually on a cubby shelf spot overlooking my PC. Jasper's ashes are on the shelf above it, giving them all a full view of my living room.

The little painted plate in front of the Cernunnos statue has Jasper's shed whiskers, and a few of Cacoa's. I made the altar mat last year, and used fussy cutting to get a full skull in each of thr squares.

A few years ago, I got this massive shove from my ancestors to paint this stool, which served as an altar for 20 or so years, this shade of green. They shut up when it was done. My family is a long line of proud farmers, so I guess that makes sense. The swatch is my family tartan. The cherry jam jar represents the fact a good chunk of my family is from Michigan. My grandma sends me a package if cherry stuff every Yuletide. Inside this jar are seeds for a vegetable garden. The necklace is a family heirloom.

As for the velvet baggy, it has a handheld mirror i use for various witchy things, and I keep it in there because of dust. Oh, and because reflective surfaces are uncomfortable for me. Been a thing since I was a young child, so I keep such things covered.

Oh, and the white candles are at different heights because one has wax in thr bottom of it, and I don't feel like digging it out. The chime candles (I buy them by the box for around $10) are such up as they are because they like to leave a mess under them. I need to do something similar for the others because they're also gonna make a mess.

[handumb]

shhhh..

~ shigaraki x f!reader

summary: you had been exceptionally dry towards your boyfriend this past week, and he couldn’t get the reason out of you over text, no matter how hard he tried. So he figured he’d pay you a little visit! :)

additional tags: reader has strict parents, eventual smut, forced to be quiet, established relationship, teasing, praise, cunnilingus, fingering, using panties as a gag, slight aftercare, no quirk au

a/n: this is my first time writing publicly on this account, so please feel free to leave tips or suggestions for me <3

word count: ~2.7k

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ-

Family dinner was something that was obligatory in your household; it had been since the dawn of time. Unless you weren’t home, you had no excuse to not be sat at your dining room table with your parents. That leaves you where you are now, picking at your plate as you sit in uncomfortable silence with your mom and dad. You knew the reason why they were refraining from breaking the silence, in turn understanding that they were going to avoid the subject all together.

“So, when can I talk to my boyfriend again?” Your tone was slightly annoyed, as you placed your fork down on your plate and looked up across the table. You met your mother’s eyes, which looked to her husband, and back to you. She let out a sigh as she also set down her fork, bringing her napkin to the corner of her mouth.

“You know the answer. He’s bad for you, and we will not allow you two to see each other any longer,” she stated simply. She was right, you knew the answer, but you couldn’t stand being forced to be so distant with him. It killed you to not maintain the same personality with him online, let alone not seeing him for the past week and a half. You looked to your dad, but he avoided your gaze, not being one for confrontation. “What your mother said, sweetheart.”

You scoffed, throwing your hands up and letting them fall to your sides. “That’s not fair, it’s my life,” you said, hating that they thought they could control you like this. “No, it’s our life, and it will be for as long as you live under this roof. If you want to be independent, you can move out!” Your mother raised her voice, displaying her usual short temper. “You don’t get it, you don’t even care enough to meet him,” you retorted, propping your elbows up on the table and swinging your hands around as you spoke, as if it helped prove your point.

“Honey, please, just try to see it from our perspective,” your dad started, turning to face you. “You sneak around with him, he’s been in the custody of the police more than once, he doesn’t do good in school, the list goes on. He doesn’t seem to have a good influence on you. We’re doing this because we love you.” You looked at your dad in disbelief. Of course they used that excuse, it’s their favorite one to abuse.

“You will stop seeing each other, and that’s final.” Your mom stated with no room for arguing otherwise. Feeling your blood rush to your face, you made the executive decision to stand up from the table, and reside in your room, not wanting to say anything that would provoke further punishment from the both of them. “If you loved me, you would let me live my life however I damn well pleased. Fucking god.” The words left your lips as a soft curse as you stormed down the hall and toward your bedroom door. Opening it revealed a surprise that you definitely weren’t expecting.

There laid your boyfriend, Tomura, lazily on your bed, fiddling with some little trinket that was supposed to be on your desk. The sound of your door opening snapped him out of whatever he was doing, and he smiled, really it was more of a smirk, and got up off the bed to greet you.

“Hey sweet thing.” He cooed out. Your eyes were wide and your feet were frozen, not expecting him to literally be in your room.

You shut the door swiftly, and held your hands out in front of you, motioning for him to stop and explain himself. “How? Why??” You could barely get out before realizing your parents could probably still hear you. Before he even started talking, you put a finger to your lips, signaling him to be quiet. You walked past him, finding something to turn on as noise to drown you two out. You landed on just turning on your fan.

The fan ran for a second before you interrogated him on what he was doing here. “What are you doing? How did you get in?” You were right in front of him, whisper-yelling your inquiries at him. He started walking closer to you, closing the gap between your bodies. You stepped back, until you reached your bed. You sat on it and looked up at him, waiting for his answer.

“Well, your window was unlocked, and I wanted to see why you’ve been ignoring me.” He stated with ease, a slight grin and a shrug of his shoulders accompanying his words. You sigh and furrow your eyebrows, upset at yourself. You didn’t want to break the news like this, but you figured you had no other choice. You were mentally beating yourself up for what you were about to say.

“Tomura.. I think we have to.. uhm- stop seeing.. each other.” The words left your mouth with so much hesitation, dripping in sadness. You couldn’t bring yourself to look up at him, holding your gaze in your lap. Your head felt heavy as you tried to compose yourself, knowing he wouldn’t react well to the news.

You didn’t hear anything for a good while after you spoke, deciding to look to see what he was thinking. Except, you don’t see a different expression from what he was sporting earlier. He still had the shit-eating grin that was plastered on his face when you first saw him. “That’s cute, angel.” He rasped out, grasping your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He crawled to you on the bed, forcing you to lie down as he positioned himself on top of you, trapping you. “But I’m not going anywhere.”

He leaned down to kiss you, holding the side of your face with one of his hands. You matched his movements, bringing your hands up to either side of his head. You were lost in the feeling, missing this for the last week or so. You wanted it to be slow, in case this was actually the last time you saw him. He slowly prodded your lips with his tongue, asking for permission to be let in. You granted it happily, parting your lips as you felt your breathing slowly become heavier.

He leaned down, pressing himself more into you as an effect, and finally broke the kiss. The catching of breath was all that was heard between the two of you. He just smiled with half lidded eyes before dipping down to your jawline, eventually kissing his way down to your neck. Your hands found their way into his hair, pulling at his locks and tangling themselves in it. That’s when you realized that your parents were, in fact, still home. Most likely just down the hall from the both of you.

You panicked, trying to push Tomura’s face away from the warmth of your neck so that you wouldn’t get caught. “Wait, no, my parents are still home, I can’t-” You were cut off, your breath hitching, Tomura not budging as he continued his attack on your neck. “T-Tomura, I can’t, not now-“

“Yes, now,” he breathed out, finding a spot on your collarbone to sink his teeth into. He sucked on the spot afterwards, allowing as close to instant relief as he could, before dragging his tongue along it painfully slow. This elicited soft whimpers from your throat, foiling your plan of trying not to let too much noise slip. Sure, the fan helped with blocking it out, but it could only do so much before your parents got suspicious.

You eventually gave in, not being able to resist him with any bone in your body. He kissed down your collarbone, and made his way to your chest. He slid his hands up the shirt that was covering one of his favorite features about you, slowly raising it above your head and discarding it off to the side. He had a twinkle of something in his eyes, and licked his lips, before kissing and sucking all over your chest. His lips lingered on your nipple, sucking at it harshly, before bringing one of his free hands up to the other, making sure it didn’t feel neglected.

“So beautiful, all for me.” He said, making it increasingly harder to stay quiet, and you were very sure he knew that. You looked down at him, the sight one to remember, while soft moans were slipping past your lips. You bit your tongue in hopes of it helping cease the noises. He met your gaze, grinning.

Once he was done marking and biting your chest, he made his way down to your most intimate area. He started fiddling with the waistband of your underwear, looking up at you while he did so. You looked down at him with pleading eyes, practically begging him not to do what he was about to. “No! Are you crazy? Do you want me to get caught?” You whisper to him, squirming. He only laughed softly in response before slowly pulling them down your legs; past your mid thighs, then your knees, then all the way down to your ankles, before wadding them up and shoving them into your mouth.

“I guess you’ll just have to be quiet then, princess,” he teased, honing in on his target, “I bet you can manage.” His tongue stuck out, licking up your slit, then going to focus on your clit. You moaned into your panties, the sensation euphoric. God, you missed this. You couldn’t fathom how you went without him for as long as you had.

He wrapped his lips around your sensitive nub, lapping the rest of your pussy generously with his tongue. You tried to stay quiet, you really did, but you couldn’t help how euphoric it felt. You continued moaning, fighting back as much as you could manage. You were squirming in his grip, either trying to break free from his hands or trying to grind against his face; you weren’t sure which you were attempting. All that washed over you was an intense amount of pleasure, urging you to reach a hand up to one of your tits, fondling it and tugging at your nipple.

Your breath became labored, the rise and fall of your chest attracting Tomura’s eyes as he looked up at the beautiful sight: you with your legs spread wide just for him, moaning out what he assumed was a mix of curses and his name as he made you feel heavenly. He took it one step further.

“Look at me,” he pulled away, waiting for you to meet his gaze, “look at me as I fuck you with my fingers.” He said, slowly inserting his fingers into your core, feeling your gummy insides squeeze around his digits. You lulled your head back against your pillow, the combination forcing you closer to your climax.

That was until the sound of knocking at your door interrupted the two of you, the room falling almost completely silent as one of your parents made their presence known. “Honey?” Your dad called out, talking through the door. You sat up as much as you could, not knowing what to do. Your eyes darted between Tomura and your door, frozen.

“I.. I wanted to apologize for earlier.” He was lingering outside of your door. Tomura had a devilish grin on his face, slowly starting his movements up again. You looked down at him, seeing him slowly bring a finger up to his lips with a small “shh” emitting from them, dipping back down into your cunt, and thrusting his fingers in and out of you. You squealed softly into your underwear, trying especially hard not to make any noise now that your dad was outside of your door.

“You know how mom can be sometimes, she just needs some downtime,” he continued, wildly unaware of what was going on just on the other side of the wood barrier between the two of you. You felt yourself slowly climb back up the steep hill of pleasure, your boyfriend's movements only getting more intense as he makes it his mission to get you to cum. You looked down at him, pleading eyes begging him to slow down, or at least make it easier for her to keep quiet. But, to no avail as he kept up his pace with his fingers, matching it with his tongue as he focused on your sweet spots.

“We can go out tomorrow, just the two of us? I bet it’ll make you feel better, sweetheart,” he said. You squirmed, softly moaning, waiting for your dad to leave. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, wiggling your hips as you tried to force yourself into your orgasm. To your dad, you were just giving him the silent treatment, so he took that as his cue to retire back to his room. “Okay, goodnight honey,” your dad said, before leaving again.

Tomura rasped out a small laugh, before urging you on. “Come on, angel, you can do it. You’re doing so good.” He whispered in between your thighs, hitting the spots that make you see stars over and over, finally pushing you over the edge. You looked down at him one more time, before coming undone. You felt him hum in satisfaction as he tasted your orgasm, forcing you to ride it out until you were begging for him to take it easy on you. Your hand found refuge in his scalp, tangling themselves in the nest of light blue locks.

With one last lap of his tongue around your cunt, he pulled away, a smile plastered on his face as he licked his fingers clean. Your face was slightly flushed as you smiled back at him, your chest rhythmically rising and falling. He crawled on top of you, wrapping his arms around your body. You started massaging his scalp with one of your hands, and rubbed his back with the other. You heard him mumble out, “Are you actually going to follow through? With the thing you brought up earlier?” You heard his tone; he sounded defeated.

You cup his face in your hands, turning it to face your own. “Of course not. My parents have been on me about it, and I didn’t know what else to do.” You looked away for a moment, then back at him. “But, that’s not to say that I won’t still ignore you, seeing this is what happens when I do,” you teased, a smirk on your face. Tomura scoffed, shaking his head and laying it back down on your chest.

After a long, silent moment, Tomura propped himself up. “I think I should go. Your parents will kill both of us if they found out I was here,” he said, moving towards the window to open it up again. “Aww, please, stay just a little longer.. Please?” You pleaded, sitting up and following him out of bed covering yourself with a nearby blanket. He turned to face you, hands moving from the window to your face. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back. You can count on that,” he said, half of his face illuminated by the dim light of the moon. He leaned down, your lips interlocking with his one last time, before he turned to escape through the window.

“Wait!” You called out to him, leaning out the window. He turned to meet you, pulling his hood up. “Uhm- text me when you get home. Maybe I can sneak off to see you next time,” you said, a small dust of pink on your cheeks as you spoke. You heard him let out a small laugh as he nodded up to you, running off into the night, leaving you up in your room for the rest of the time being.

[mossbirdreigns]

i've been patrolling arcane tumblr

as i'm sure many of you have as well and i have some thoughts. some critiques if you will.

beware season 2 spoilers and discussion of plot discourse. very long post. but worth it. i think.

alright, if you're reading this, it's because you wanted to. welcome!

i've been brainrotting about arcane season 2 pretty much all day today and i wanted to ramble about my thoughts especially now that i've seen some of the criticism of it going around. so let's get the main points out of the way.

1. Plot Holes

saying season 2 doesn't have plot holes would be a lie and i highly encourage you to look into more about them, but i'll summarize the main ones real quick for anyone unfamiliar.

Silco and Vander

TL;DR: timelines around the day of ash (bridge massacre) don't line up. we've seen vander before the day of ash (clean-shaven/moustache + younger looking) and we've seen him on the day of ash (full beard + older). we know he went back to kill silco before the day of ash, which its implied silco had something to do with, but when we see the scene of it, he has a full beard again, implying it takes place after the day of ash

source: thenationofzaun

Silco and Vander and Felicia + how they connect to Vi and Jinx

TL;DR: in season 1, vi and powder/jinx show 0 sign of recognizing silco or knowing he exists at all before episode 3 but in season 2, we're led to believe that silco, vander, and felicia were all very close with felicia making them both promise to take care of her kids with vander even naming vi. even if we excuse the vi and powder not knowing him before episode 3, why would silco be so willing and actively trying to kill vi when he promised felicia to take care of her kids?

2. The (Implied) Love Triangle

alright here's the main thing i want to rant about. for anyone who didn't pick up on the vibes, i (and some others i've seen) definitely felt love triangle vibes during the silco/vander/felicia flashback scene and i wanna share my thoughts with you on that.

aside from the plothole issue of silco + vi/powder (the only way i would accept it is if the falling out between them all happened way earlier and they had like a friendship/situationship breakup so vi and powder never heard about him but i don't think that's what they're doing), i enjoy the idea and potential of vander and silco being vi and jinx's biological dads but i don't like the way the show is setting it up, mostly because of the glaring plot holes the rest of the scene creates. that single line from felicia saying they both were responsible for her kids in some way causes such an elaborate web of cracks across the story the show has shown us thus far. why is silco so ok with killing vi for like the entirety of season 1 if he was indebted by the death of a friend to care for her now orphaned kids? does that responsibility only apply to jinx for some reason? did he just not care about his promise to felicia anymore? is it because silco sees more of a physical resemblance to felicia in powder/jinx than in vi? these are all very valid theories but my issue lies with the fact that the show itself tells us none. we see the actions these characters are taking but we see very little of why. we get none of the context. all of these additional doubts and holes come in exclusively because of that scene in the last drop and, specifically, because silco is in that scene.

if that scene was just felicia and vander, there would be 0 plot ramifications. don't get me wrong, i love silco and i want him to pleeeaaaase have more screentime but not like this.

so how would i do it instead?

i'm glad you asked! i've compiled a brief list of ideas i've had.

felicia and vander talk at the last drop, silco and felicia talk separately (maybe a chance for us to see a more emotional side of silco)

silco is there for the conversation but draws back when vander takes more of a presence with baby vi (with the idea that silco would feel less connected to vi, though it still feels like a stretch to me)

have the scene at the last drop as normal but silco leaves after learning felicia is pregnant (perhaps upset because he's in love with her), and vander is the only one she talks to about taking care of her kids

make connol more of a character like at all??

(fanfic writers feel free to use any of these ideas, tag me if you do!)

at the end of the day, i think the issue with this season is honestly a lack of time. they need another season or two at least to fully and properly cover every plotline with the tact and skill they showed in season one. trying to cram everything they want to do into 9 ~40 minute episodes just is not going to work for the amount of shit going on in this show. if you're only doing two seasons and you have this many plotlines, your episodes should be at least an hour.

in a perfect world, i would've really liked to see almost a mirroring of format from the first season where the first three episodes were a flashback before the bulk of the story takes place but with vander, silco, felicia, and connol as the characters we follow instead. let us actually see what happened and how they died, lay it all out on the table and then jump us back to the fallout of the season 1 finale for episode 4.

i'm going to be 100% honest with you here. i do not really care for the hextech or the arcane plotlines. hear me out, i promise i don't just hate them.

i want to like both of these plotlines and there are elements of them i do enjoy. my main issue, again, comes back to the lack of time. there is wild shit happening at every second with what feels like zero downtime, leading to the writers having to leave out details that round out the story in order to get all the main plot in before they run out of runtime. i feel bad for the artists who put so much soul and care into the art they've shown us who have been rushed to cram everything in. they pull it off but i cannot ignore that they are limited by the pacing they've been given. i want to see viktor building this sanctuary, i want to see him gathering this influence, i want to see him learning to control these powers, i want intimate scenes where he talks with Sky about how this power is changing him. i want jayce for once in his life to think about someone other than himself. these characters have so much potential for the depths they can achieve but they're snubbed by the show's cut off and that makes me so sad!!!

let me spend a season with the zaunites, let me spend a season in piltover, develop those storylines, let them stew and manifest and brew, and then let season 3 truly be the beginning of the conflict between zaun and piltover and i guarantee you the emotional rollercoaster will be 12x what it is currently and way more satisfying. short stories are good but not when you're trying to pull off 4 stories in one.

if you read this far, thanks! if you have any thoughts on anything in here, my dms are open and i would love to hear other opinions!

i hope you have a good day, stranger ♡ stay strong while we wait for act 3

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Light on the Darkside - Chapter Thirty + Epilogue.

Well, we've reached the end, besties. Thanks to the few of you who stuck with it, it means the world to me. I hated having to say goodbye to James and Ella, as well as the rest of the characters, too, but all good things must come to an end and I hope you'll agree that I gave them a fitting send off.

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty One Twenty Two Twenty Three Twenty Four Twenty Five Twenty Six Twenty Seven Twenty Eight Twenty Nine

Tag list - In the comments. Please DM to be added/removed.

Words - 5,460

Warnings - 18+ throughout. Topics cover depression, suicide and eating disorders. Minors DNI!

Two years later 

“Nah bro, can’t do it.” 

“But why, though?” 

Kitt gesticulated wildly across the garage, to where four out of five members of Nocturnal Descent all sat in a row, each trying their hardest not to laugh. “Because that’s one hell of a fucking audience! Playing to our other mates is one thing, but them? Nah.” 

Snedders was the first to speak. “Aw, Kitt man. How long you known us all for now, eh? What do you think we’re gonna do, sit here and piss laughing? Nah. Just run through and we’ll give you honest feedback.” 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” the lad continued, Lyra rolling her eyes. 

“Mate, come on,” she spoke, reaching to ruffle his hair lovingly, ending up with a palm full of styling wax she wiped onto her jeans. “It’s my dad and my uncles, not a load of twats who are gonna boo us.”  

“I expected better of you, son!” Gaz chimed in, scratching his beard. “Just play one song, it’s cool. You play in front of me and Jim all the bloody time when we jam together. Don’t be fucking scared of Sneds and Steve.” 

“Come on, mate,” the latter spoke, leaning forward in his seat. “Ain’t no one here gonna be a dick.” 

And that was the root of Kitt’s issue, the fact that the band he and Lyra had started two years before had just played their first gig, and it hadn’t gone well. So poorly, in fact, that they’d completed their set to a chorus of booing within the school hall at the end of year talent show they’d partook in.  

He fiddled with his bass a little, making a panicked noise in the back of his throat, their rhythm guitarist Molly snorting into her mic. 

“Oh, fucking hell, Kitt!” she spluttered, “making me feel all nervous and stuff now too, y’know!” A glare followed. “Wanker!” 

“Go fuck yourself!” he muttered, grinning thereafter and running when she raced behind Lyra to kick his thigh. The guys before them snorted laughing, loving their energy. Kitt’s nerves still lingered. 

He reasoned with himself that indeed, the guys were right, though. If anyone was going to give them a fair shot, it was the four professional musicians before them, all of them he’d known for the last four years. They were also more along the lines of the target demographic for Dominion of Decay, rather than a hall full of kids more into whatever was currently climbing the charts. He nodded, taking a breath, Lyra turning to Enzo, their drummer to count them in.  

James couldn’t keep the smile from his face as Lyra began playing the opening bars of Sacrifice, the song he’d helped her write. God, she was so fucking talented, and yes it didn’t hurt any having a father so musically accomplished, but the way she played came from practising for hours and hours. He still maintained she was better than he’d been at her age, a thought he’d had since she was twelve and really begun showing her talent.  

Looking to his side, he saw Steve elevating his head, mouthing ‘chin up!’ to her while pointing at his own, knowing of course the placement of her head would further open her throat, letting out the bellowing scream he’d had a hand in teaching her how to perfect.  

“They’re fucking good, ain’t they?” he spoke, leaning close to James, his smile broadening.  

“Shitting brilliant, is what they are,” he agreed, tapping his foot along to the blistering beat. “And that ain't biased at all. I tell 'em when they suck, but fucking hell, they’ve come on so bloody well in the last two years, innit.” 

They truly had, too. It was the exact focus Lyra had needed, something to really sink her teeth into while dealing with her PMDD. Whenever she didn’t feel right, she picked up her guitar and played her heart out, wrote the kind of lyrics that blew her dad away, and fastidiously studied music in order to improve.  

That, being put on medication, and her ongoing therapy sessions with Sadie (although now on a bi-weekly basis) all helped her deal with her mental illness in a way that had become entirely manageable, and left a much happier and mentally settled teenage girl in the wake of the one who’d struggled to make sense of it all. 

It went without saying that her parents were beyond proud of her, her dad especially. 

“Right, I’ll start with critiques first, but trust me I ain’t got many,” James spoke after the song had finished. “Molly, you ain’t keeping time, darlin’. It’s slight, but it’s there. If you practice slowly and build better muscle memory, then increase speed, you’ll get it. Try recording a few rehearsals so you can play it back and train your ear to pick it up, too.  

“Other than that, you were great. Just don’t get so wrapped up in the technicalities of playing, because you’re proper top grade at it, but you’re focusing too hard on it and slowing yourself down, ain’t keeping up with Lyra or Enzo. And Lyra, the way you play is why you cost me a shitting fortune in strings! You ain’t gotta brutalise your guitar, baba. Let the amp do the work for you.” 

“And keep your chin up!” Steve then added. “If you keep on looking down, you’ll close your throat and damage your vocal cords more trying to get them screams out. Remember when I told ya, the power behind it comes from the pit of your guts, like. Then you’re just letting your larynx go soft to let the sound pass, and tightening it again when the pitch is higher, but you can’t do that unless...” 

“Unless my throat is open," she finished for him a little sheepishly, rolling her eyes at herself. “Got it. Thanks, Steve.” 

He winked, smiling fondly. “Anytime, kid.” 

Gaz and Snedders then weighed in, giving Kitt and Enzo some invaluable advice, the latter even advising the young drummer to keep up with his fitness in order to handle the rigors of the job better. Drumming was certainly a workout in itself, especially if you played as hard and fast as Snedders did. 

“You’re such a fucking hypocrite, Sneds!” Gaz guffawed, pointing at him. “You had a gut the size of the West fucking Midlands for the first ten years in the band, with your kebab and beer diet!” 

“Oi, less of that!” he barked, pointing a finger at him. “It’s because I’m a formerly fat bastard that I can give that advice. Can’t say that about me any longer though, can ya? Dickhead.” It was true, in the years that had passed from the hedonism and extremely poor diet of his youth, Snedders had become a gym convert, who through the tenacity of Nell, his long-suffering wife, now actually ate a diet consisting of vegetables, too.  

They all sat together for a little while longer, James and Steve fetching a tray of tea and snacks at they sat with the teens, jamming, talking and laughing a lot. It would have been great if Dan was with them too, but he no longer lived local to the Warwickshire area, moving to north Wales, where his new wife was from. It meant he could only come down for practices well in advance, rather than such impromptu sessions like this, the guys offering to do Lyra a favour in letting her band run through for some feedback.  

Gaz and Steve had to get moving after an hour, both having commitments with their families, Snedders sticking around since Nell was, to quote him, enjoying a day of having the house to herself.  

“Uncle Sneds!" Freya screamed with delight upon seeing him enter the kitchen with her dad, hurtling through from the lounge to be lifted into his arms.  

“Aw, alright, little destroyer of worlds!" he beamed, kissing her cheek. "How you doing?" 

“I’m still the night! Fear me!” 

Oh, she was brilliant. “Don’t worry, bubs. If there’s one person I am truly terrified of in this world, it ain’t your auntie Nell. It’s you.” 

The child beamed, lifting her chin in triumph. “As I suspected!” 

She might have grown out of her wild toddler years, but still, she was a riotous five. There was definitely a spark within that her adoring parents thought would forever be present in Freya, and they wouldn’t diminish it for the world.  

Except maybe when she preceded her antics with the announcement of ‘Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville, and welcome to Jackass!’ The last time had resulted in her taking a swan dive off the sofa, right to her dad’s midsection as he’d lain on the floor, trying to get his bad back to adjust. The arrival of Freya to his abdomen had certainly not helped. 

“Right then, Lyra,” Snedders then spoke, placing Freya down again to hurtle off in the direction of the back garden. “Where’d you want me?”  

Music was her main passion in life, but also, the eldest of the Kingston girls had taken a very keen interest in all things hair for a number of years. She regularly re-tightened Snedders dreads for him when they grew out at the roots, trimmed her dad’s hair, and as of late even did her mum’s roots for her. It was also why Freya currently sported a bright pink semi-permanent shade on her hair, with it being the school holidays, and nagging her sister to death to dye it for her after being given the okay from their parents. 

“At the island, I’ll just go grab my comb and clips,” she spoke, leaving the room as Zara entered, blowing her nose before moving to grab her dad’s hands and climb up his legs. 

“Getting a bit too big for this, innit,” he spoke, hauling her up into his arms and kissing her cheek. “How you feeling now?” 

Her reply? A very wet sneeze. Right down his ear. Snedders guffawed. James crinkled nose and eye rolled. That’d be another cold he’d be picking up courtesy of his germ-riddled offspring. And he had a tour to finish four days from then. Great. It was all part and parcel of dad duty, though.  

“Rubbish.” she confirmed, cuddling into him more. While she received some comfort, eventually going back to her place on the sofa under a blanket, Snedders sat and went through the pain of dread re-tightening. Each lock was wound around on itself where it had grown out, then backcombed and wound again until a new section of dreadlock was formed. He detested the process, but would rather sit in the Kingston abode with his mate and the kids he thought of as his legitimate nieces than a salon.  

Also, it was much cheaper. He paid Lyra fifty quid for it, a sum she was more than content with. Although she often stated she’d do it for free, he wouldn’t hear of it.  

“I still can’t believe it, you know,” he spoke, sipping his tea. “Only feels like five minutes ago when I was helping with the nighttime feeds and changing your shitty bum when you were this tiny, howling baby.” 

Yes, in her first few months of life prior to James and Ella getting their own flat, her uncles had indeed pitched in with helping her parents raise her. Snedders would hear her stir, amble into James and Ella’s bedroom, shoo them back into bed and let them know he had it covered before preparing a bottle for her. He’d then lie there on the sofa with her on his chest until she quietened, chatting away to her about all sorts while her exhausted parents caught up on sleep. 

“So, is this what you wanna do now you’ve left school, get into hair and all that?” he asked, Lyra twisting more of his hair tighter before combing it to death. 

“It’s my backup, yeah,” she began, turning the dread in her fingers. “The band is my dream, though, so that’s what I’m going after. Then I have this to fall back on. Hairdressing college is only two years, so I’ll be done and qualified by the time I’m eighteen.” 

He could barely believe she’d be sixteen in just nine weeks. Time truly had flown. “Aw, good plan, James mini.”  

She smiled, laughing a little. He’d always called her that, on account she truly was the female version of her father. The man himself re-entered the kitchen, hauling along with him handfuls of bags, Ella following him in after doing the weekly shop at their local Sainsbury’s, pausing to kiss Snedders on the cheek.  

“Not getting too many fleas in my kitchen, are you, Sneds?” she joked, receiving a smack to her leg. 

“Oi, less of that, Ells! I have enough shit talking about my bloody hair to contend with from your old man over there!”  

James immediately turned, pointing a finger. “Less of the old, you twat. You’ll be pushing fifty well before me!”  

“Yeah, but I wear it better,” he grinned, James guffawing before giving him a little further banter, moving to the kettle. 

“Do you and your fleas want another tea?” 

“Best thing to come out of your mouth so far this morning.” He often said that when James was being a dickhead. At least his tea making skills remained as top notch as ever. Much time might’ve passed, but fundamentally, they were still the same lads who’d shared a flat together back in the mid to late nineties. It still only felt like five minutes ago.  

Once his hair was all tidy, Lyra snipping the fluffy strands that had come loose from the dreads as well until they all lay smooth, Snedders passed over two twenty-pound notes and a ten, giving her and her family a big hug each before leaving.  

“That’s going right into the band fund,” she spoke, reaching for the old cookie jar off the top shelf next to the cooker, where she kept her saved cash. Even though her dad had a set up dedicated to rough recording in the garage, it wasn’t as good as an actual studio, she and her friends currently putting money aside each so they could pool together to get some demo tracks laid down at a proper recording studio. “Want some help putting the shopping away, mum?” 

“Please, my little love.” Ella smiled, handing her the bag containing the many and varied items that went to restocking the snacks cupboard. Taking it, she noticed the immediate grabby hands her dad made, rooting around and taking out the spicy coated peanuts to throw across the kitchen to him.  

“Cheers, monster. Right, I’m going out to get the cars washed and vacuumed. I’ll take the destroyer of worlds with me, keep her busy for a bit, innit.” 

With the eldest and youngest Kingston out on the drive, the middle one still absconded to the sofa beneath her blanket, Lyra and Ella made short work of unpacking all the food before taking a seat at the island, drinking tea and snacking on toast.  

“So, where is it you and dad are going tonight, then?” she asked, crunching her way through a thick, well-buttered crust. 

“Out for dinner first, and then to a bar we used to go to all the time called The Gallows.” she spoke, smiling with nostalgia. Since he’d been in America on tour for their actual anniversary, they were having their night out that weekend, before he’d be off again the following Wednesday to embark on the far east leg of the world tour.  

Their wedding anniversary and the date they got together while still in Moor Acres was the same day, 15th June, 1997, marrying seven years later on that same date. Twenty years. Ella could still barely believe it. Just a few days prior, while driving back from a clinic where she’d had sessions, she found herself close by to the very place she’d met her husband, pulling over at the side of the road which bordered the grounds of Moor Acres.  

From her vantage point, she’d been able to make out the gigantic oak tree there in the grounds, the place where she and James had often sat together to escape the regimental environment of the facility, spending some quiet time getting to know one another. There, much like the mighty oak itself, they’d laid the roots of what would grow into one hell of a strong relationship.   

James himself too, had been her oak tree, even when he’d been the furthest thing from mentally strong. He’d gotten her through one of the toughest times, if not the toughest time of her life, entering that facility a broken, emaciated young woman, only to begin flourishing after finding him. She’d leaned on him and he’d supported her, helped her see that food was not her enemy, but the mental picture she had of herself very much was.  

Most of all, he’d made her feel the very thing she didn’t. Beautiful. He still did, too.  

“Be still, my raging male hormones,” he told her later as she got ready, her choice of black leather leggings, her favourite leopard print high heels and a white spaghetti strap top very pleasing to his eye, her long, blonde hair all wavy and free-flowing. “Shitting hell, little. You look top grade sexy.” 

As did he, wearing a deep grey shirt and black jeans. Her husband never needed much to look utterly mouth-watering. “Thank you. Here, do my necklace up for me. I can’t with my nails.”  

Taking the little fine chain with the simple lone diamond star upon it, he fastened it around her neck, kissing her cheek. An hour later, and they were walking through Nuneaton, taking the high street that held so many memories for them of a life gone by, pausing outside one location in particular.  

“I'd hate to think how much the rent costs there now, since they did it all up," James spoke, both of them looking up at the lounge window of his old flat. It looked much different to how it had when they’d lived there, that was for certain. “All the meals of either toast with that nasty, cheap bread or rice, just so we could make the rent.” 

“And sleeping under two duvets in winter so we could save on heating the place a bit," she chirped, remembering it well. “No matter how hard it was at times, though, I still remember it fondly. It was my first proper home as a somewhat responsible adult.  So many memories.” 

“Like when we took Andrea back there for the first time and she wouldn't come out the fucking stairwell,” he chuckled, still able to see her there loitering in his mind's eye, too afraid to go into the flat and meet Steve properly.  

“Or the first time I came back here with you after watching the band play,” she spoke, hugging his arm tightly.  

He’d never forget that night, finding her again after being separated for two months. Winding his arm around her, he rested his head to hers, remembering a lesser pleasant memory of the flat. “It could have ended here for me, if it weren’t for Steve.” He gulped a little, still feeling an icy bite of fear even twenty years on over how close to death he’d come. “I owe him everything, man. Did the biggest solid to me, acting as quickly as he did. Poor lad was terrified, but he held it together to save me. Shit, don’t even wanna think about if I’d done it when he’d been asleep.” 

Turning to him, Ella reached for his face, stroking his cheeks. “Then don’t.” Pulling him down to her level, she kissed him softly, humming happily. “I’m so proud of how far you’ve come, you know. Every day, you make me feel like the luckiest bleedin’ woman in the world for having met you. Love you, my sexy church burner.” 

He laughed then, shaking his head, kissing her forehead. “Love you too, little.” 

They took one last look up at the flat before continuing their walk, a literal walk down memory lane, Ella pointing out what had once been the flower shop she’d worked at, Bloomin’ Lovely now long gone, replaced by a milkshake and dessert bar. They passed by the curry house she’d had a freak out at back in their fledgling stages of being together, the bank next door gone, a wine bar in its place, continuing on until they got to the Italian restaurant they were eating at.  

One penne with vodka sauce and one carbonara later, and they were on the move again, the end of the high street their destination, able to hear the music blaring from The Gallows from a good few hundred yards away. 

“Did you hear Lyra earlier, while we were bringing the shopping in, telling Snedders about her plans?” she spoke, thumb swirling over his knuckles as they walked hand in hand.  

“I did,” he confirmed, smiling with pride. “That’s a good kid we’ve got ourselves there, innit? Got her head screwed on right.” 

“Well, she’s following in some pretty amazing footsteps, isn’t she?” Ella smiled, giving him a little shove. “I think I always knew she would, you know. Good freakin’ god, she’s made me so proud, seeing how she’s come through all her troubles. I mean yes, she can still be a bleedin’ nightmare, but she’s our nightmare.” 

“Can’t fucking wait to see where her life takes her, same for the other two and all.” He paused then, chuckling. “As long as we can keep the chaos of the night off of any government watch lists, we’ll be doing alright.” 

She threw her head back, her laughter radiant, agreeing fully with her husband. After seeing where their lives had taken them, remembering it as they walked the streets they’d tread in their formative years, neither truly could wait to see the future that now lay before their three daughters.  

If they knew one thing for sure, it would likely be as chaotic as it was wonderful. They were Kingston's, after all... 

Epilogue 

August 12th, 2024 

He couldn’t deny how alien it felt for him, to be the one standing stage side while somebody he had a familial connection with played upon it, but there he was. And he couldn’t be prouder. It was the first major festival appearance since their signing with a record label a year before for the four-piece death metal band from Warwickshire, Dominion of Decay taking to the stage to a rousing cheer.  

“I can’t bleedin’ believe it!” Ella cried while clapping her hands above her head, feeling her eyes fill with very proud tears. “That's our baby up there!"  

Except at just turned twenty-three, Dominion of Decay’s lead guitarist and vocalist wasn’t a baby any longer. She’d always be such to them, though. Taking to the microphone, Lyra began to play the opening bars of the song Absolute Chaos, the audience having a very fitting reaction. Especially when she opened her mouth and let out the kind of ear splitting howl she’d become famed for.  

“That’s my girl.” James spoke with pride, beaming as he watched. 

“Nah, but it was her uncle Steve here who taught her to wail like a good’un!” the man himself spoke, watching with equally huge pride at his side. “The ability to shred the shit outta a guitar while she’s doing it, though, that’s all you, sunshine.” 

He grinned, nodding. “Innit.” Truly, pride was an understatement. He was absolutely overjoyed for her that her band was doing well, following very much in his footsteps, albeit in differing subgenres of the metal scene. She wasn’t the only person on stage he was proud of either, laughing as Kitt caught his eye, grinning insanely as his fingers pulled at the strings of his bass guitar, his bald head already gleaming with sweat. 

The young, bulked up man covered in almost as many tattoos now as James had been unsure if he’d even be able to play, still partially recovering from the kind of surgery that had put him out of commission with just about everything for months. At twenty-three, it was still considered a very young age to go through gender reassignment surgery, especially going the NHS route, who had flatly refused.  

So, after saving from his job and using the large wedge of inheritance that had originally been earmarked for university from his grandmother as well as securing a bank loan, he’d spent it on something he saw much more valuable to him. Just a year after going in for top surgery, he’d gotten his bottom surgery done at a specialist clinic out in Portugal, taking Lyra with him for support and so he had somebody to help look after him post-surgery.  

Lyra herself would never forget her best friend’s words as he’d groggily come round from the anaesthetic. ‘Dude, I’ve got a peen. Fuck yes!” He was thrilled, but still didn’t quite put the same amount of energy as usual into his performance that day, save doing his new boy bits any kind of nefarious damage.  

Of course, though, he pulled an array of faces for the camera in Ella’s hands as she ran up and down the photography pit, on duty as ever, just like she would be later in the day when Nocturnal Descent took to the stage. As she clicked away, her heart could have burst, seeing her first born up there following in her dad’s footsteps. It still felt like only a few years ago when she’d stood in the bathroom of their old flat, holding a positive pregnancy test, her eyes almost out on stalks.  

Sometimes, Ella struggled to believe it was her life, how being locked up in facility for the mentally ill had led to everything she now had. She often thought about it, how she could have just simply left James over in the corner to be rude and moody by himself, that day she’d pulled up a chair and spoken to him, first coined him the nickname church burner.  

Church burner, BFG, baby, James, Jim, husband, dad, War. He bore many names, his favourite of that list happening because of her. He still couldn’t believe it, that they’d been together for almost three decades, their twenty-seven-year long relationship still just as fun, loving and devoted as it ever was. They’d blinked, and gone from their early twenties to forty-nine and fifty, with a twenty-three-year-old, a seventeen-year-old, and a thirteen-year-old. And yes. Freya was still the destroyer of worlds. Or rather her mother, who she almost landed on after crowd surfing over the barrier. 

“Oi, that’s my kid. Don’t be rough with her or I’ll set her dad on you.” Ella warned one of the security guys, who had yanked her from the top of the crowd. They weren’t known for being particularly welcoming of crowd surfers. The security guy in question dropped Freya at her feet, about to question who said dad was when he saw the looming presence of James over to the side of the stage. Another thing well known on the scene; don’t fuck with War’s kids. 

“Nah, I’m fine, mum!” A sweaty, dishevelled Freya dismissed her with, throwing up the horns to her sister. “Going back in for a dance!” What she meant by dance was being hurled around in the moshpit. Any other parents would have worried, but not James and Ella. Freya Kingston could more than handle herself, even at thirteen. Plus, she had her uncle Snedders in there with her. Ella actually managed to pick her out in the crowd a short time later, sitting upon said uncle’s shoulders, screaming her head off, having a fantastic time. 

She was, if nothing else, her father’s daughter.  

Clicking off a few more pictures, Ella returned to James’s side, having a massive arm draped around her shoulders and a kiss dropped to her cheek. “We did well, didn’t we? Got two batshit metal heads and one future scientist who hates all of this.” 

She laughed softly, moving to lean back in his embrace instead, her gaze moving over to the other side of the stage, where a supportive but begrudging Zara stood, ear defenders on, with her little group of friends. She was too cool to stand with mum and dad, but happily settled for her uncle Gaz, auntie Hester, and their two sons, Charlie and Jonah.  

Little miss too cool had just started the second year of her A levels, working hard so she could eventually go to university and there take her BA in chemistry, wanting to go into the field of pharmaceutical development when she was older. It was borne of a fascination with how drugs worked on the body and mind, the delicacies of the compounds and their chemical structures, something that she’d shown great interest in back when Lyra had begun taking medication for her PMDD. 

In the years that had followed, and just like Michael had pledged to her father, Lyra had noticed her moods beginning to even out a lot more, her fluctuations now solely controlled by the contraceptive pill, which worked wonders. She, just like her dad, had found a balance through her mental illness, never again dropping to the level that had aged him ten years in ten minutes, her brush with suicide remaining just that, a one-off brush. 

Again, for how well she’d come through it, her parents were nothing but proud, both hugging her tightly as soon as she came off stage, telling her how well she did.  

“Thank you! I love you guys!” she croaked, her voice a little hoarse after spending the preceding half an hour screaming. Lamentably, they didn’t get much time with her that day, the band’s roadies packing everything up at speed, ready to depart. They had a ferry to board, ready to continue the European leg of their tour, supporting another bigger band. Life on the road; James knew it well. 

Kissing them goodbye, she jumped back on the bus, the pair then hugged tightly by Kitt. 

“Laters, mama and papa Kingston!” He’d been calling them that for years, something they welcomed. He would always be like another kid to them both.  

Watching the bus roll out of the backstage area, Ella thumbed a tear away. God, how she missed her, but equally was so thrilled to see her doing such an amazing job in her career, having the time of her life while she was doing it. 

“Oi, no tears, Mrs. K,” James spoke, giving her a little shove with his elbow. “We’ve finally got one of ’em out of the house! It’s quieter, innit?” 

“Baby, for as long as Freya lives there, it’ll never be quiet."  

As if summoned, there was suddenly a flurry of movement, Snedders racing past them. 

“Control your crotch fruit, Jim! Bloody insane!” 

“Uncle Sneds! Stop, look! If I spray it on a lighter, it makes a flame thrower!” Freya cried, her eyes alight with what could be constituted as slightly psychotic mischief. 

James grabbed the can of deodorant from her grasp, the lighter too. “No it don’t, right honourable princess of darkness. Pack it in.”  

She pouted, but still tore after Snedders, James throwing the almost empty can of deodorant into a nearby bin and pocketing the lighter.  

“Quite apt, really, for the daughter of a man with the nickname church burner.”  

He rolled his eyes, pretending to throttle her. “Except I wouldn’t put it past her not to actually do that at some point. I swear, she’s on a government watch list somewhere already.” 

Ella erupted with laughter at that, watching as her youngest finally calmed down, being piggybacked by a very out of breath Snedders instead, turning to her husband with a radiant smile. “You said something similar a few years ago, and I’ve never forgotten it. She’s mental, but in the best possible way. Wouldn’t change her for the world.” 

He leaned down and kissed her, his beloved wife cuddling him tight, realising that truly, there could be no exchange for the world at all, because she already had it. They both did, in the amazing life they had built for themselves, the children they’d brought into it, and lastly but by no means least, in one another. It hadn’t always been easy, but by god, it had been worth it.  

If only those two broken down, sick kids at Moor Acres could have seen where their lives would take them back in nineteen ninety-seven. They wouldn’t have hesitated at all in rushing towards their happiness, not even for a second.  

The End.  

[supernova3space]

WIP Wednesday: Nova rambles about the WIPs Pt 3

I almost forgot I do this lmao now before my Wednesday turns to Thursday, let's goooooooooo

13. Like Real People Do: This one is very close to my heart and it's also one which I'm doing a lot of research for. A LOT. I even contacted an actual archeologist (SO COOL THEY'RE SO COOL AH). In this story, Briseis, a bio-anthropologist, is part of team that excavates a 500+ year old bog body from Opus and she is super excited! What she does not expect is the bog body to come to life and lead her on a wild, very exasperating goose chase through the country in search of something he's missing. Patrochilles, yes. I LOVE THIS STORY I'M FINDING IT A BIT HARD TO WRITE BUT I LOVE IT

14. 1840's Pat is a botanist: Haven't quite decided on the title. I was very inspired by the Ibis Trilogy, especially the character of Paulette. Adventurous botanist? Travelling around the world? YES PLEASE. This AU, like the Ibis Trilogy, is set in the events leading to the Poppy War between Britain and China in the 1840's. So it's more like historical fiction. Patroclus, a former sailor and now botanist works in the botanical gardens of Phthia, hoping to one day make a name for himself. Achilles, son of the owner of said botanical gardens, ex-soldier and now businessman handling trade in his father's company, keeps visiting the botanical gardens to gaze longingly at this man mucking about in the dirt, muttering about the difference between Euphorbia and cacti. The events that follow lead to them being swept into a war out of their control. Can their love bloom in these troubled waters? (Ans: YES IT CAN. IT'S A FUCKING EICCHORNIA FOR THAT) (That's a plant, guys. Not anything horny)

15. Long distance R rated shit: What the title says lmao. My foray into PWP for this one. How do you have sex with the unrequited love of your life when you're on the opposite sides of the country? Achilles has a solution. Patroclus is confused but, hey it's a birthday gift. It would be rude not to accept it. Lmao the idiots in love is strong in this one.

16 and 17. On this shore, I shall wait: Patroclus is an honest, hardworking fisherman. He has everything he needs here. He has a best friend, a boisterous teenager who wants to run away from this place, his boat is in good shape, the sea is, well, the sea. But why the fuck are these fish flying out of the water and slapping him in the face? Or, Achilles is a mermaid trying to get his attention but does not know how to. This man is trying to catch fish right? How about he just gives it to him? But he's too nervous to approach him. So how do you show love? Yeet that fish! (from a prompt in YouTube lmaoooo). The second one which I've named as the Bri version is actually part of the same story but it happens from Briseis' POV in the heartbreaking aftermath of the chaos that ensued. Very inspired by The God Of Small Things. Cause I can't help but add a dash of angst into any long story I write hehe

18. The Newly Dead-Triple Dead Combo: Y'know, Triple Dead Combo. The name is actually a pun, sorta. I heard of this term called "Triple Threat Combo" and was like, huh ok there are three ghosts here so, ayyyyyy (look at me explaining the joke like a dad). But yeah, the rest of the story deals with the reason for Patroclus' death, Achilles slowly dealing with his delicate freedom and Ajax and Briseis losing their minds because WHY IS PAT SIGHING AT THIS BLONDE TWINK??! Also will be delving a bit into the characters past, so we'll be seeing a lot of backstory stuff heheh. Ah, I love ghost stories.

Bonus: 19 cause 16 and 17 are the same thing lol: This one is not in the list because I added it later. Heheh. Museum AU. I won't be saying more because i saw the prompt on Tumblr from an artist many of you know and love so hehehhehehehehehehehehehehehehehehh anyway yeah, this is going to be a oneshot and not a complete story. We're gonna leave at an open ending (because I have neither the courage nor dedication to start another long fic 😭). Very Baejax's Sunset In Your Veins inspired. My dear darling artist (If you see this, YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE) who randomly posted about this AU on Tumblr, I have taken it and I am going to make it come true 😤😘

So yeah, those are the WIPs for this Wednesday. I'd say, one more of this and we'll be done! And they will stop screaming around in my head (it is so FRUSTRATING). Maybe I'll post art wips later who knows lmao 😂 or music wips -shrug-

[gayhawkelatehomicide]

Updated Protagonist List

I'm going to add images to this, so it's going beneath a readmore for length reasons

Wardens

Aridhel Mahariel - bow rogue, romanced Zevran, straightforward dalish who neither understands nor cares about shemlen (or durgenlen) politics, blood magic is probably fine as long as you use it responsibly, anxious and blunt. "Let's focus on stopping the world-ending plague of darkspawn first, and worry about the rest of this bullshit later, hm?"

Saffron Cousland - sword and shield warrior, romanced Alistair, noble in every sense of the word but cheerful and friendly, Queen of Ferelden, Arlessa of Amaranthine (and Highever), killed Rendon Howe with her father's sword, fixated on duty. "Because it's the right thing to do."

Theodore Amell - arcane warrior mage, romanced Morrigan, bastardization arc powered by Morrigan whispering bad ideas in his ear, loves his terrible witch girlfriend, blood magic is fine and the chantry is oppressive, ambitious. "I am no longer baby, now I want power."

Renan Tabris - dagger rogue, romanced Leliana, exactly zero patience for shem politics, raised Andrastian (derogatory), canonically kind of a bitch, evil sense of humor, loves her stupid new shem baby brother, harden everyone, distrustful. "Like dogs, Shianni."

Valda Aeducan - two handed warrior, romanced Leliana, honorable and serious, trusts no one, girl raised in harsh political nonsense learns to trust her found family and forgive her bio family while unlearning bad lessons simulator, sneaky/quiet sense of humor, intense loyalty to her people, values tradition but values compassion more, genuinely regrets what happened with Trian. "For the honor of my house, though I myself have neither house nor honor."

Emmaera Surana - blood mage spirit healer, romanced Alistair, fey and strange, sweet but a little out of it, she and Merrill would get along so well because they both just say what they mean, falls for Ali like a ton of bricks after trusting him exactly 0% at first, has a council of spirits that advise her, definitely more than a little possessed, Templars aggro on sight, besties with Morrigan. "The Chantry won't tell you anything useful about the Fade, but I could. If you want."

Ashaterylen Mahariel - champion fighter, loves Morrigan but it's complicated, aggressive and no-nonsense, adopts Alistair as her comic relief to fill Tamlen's shoes, Not Okay™ but doing a good job regardless, my only warden who straight up dies, but we still get Kieran because magic, rather laconic, probably my most heavily headcanoned origins character. "Duty trumps sentiment. Every time."

Hawkes

Iris Hawke - knife rogue, romanced Anders, diplomatic but also way too intense for her own good, loves mages so much, circle mage Bethany, will do anything to protect what's left of her family, noble impulses but awful sense of humor, fanatic, very angry underneath her shell of politeness, diplomacy as a tool. "Why don't we try asking the Arishok nicely?"

Ian Hawke - elemental mage, romanced Fenris, sarcastic, sided with the templars because magic is an essential part of him but it's brought nothing but grief to him and his family, templar Carver, quip for every situation, never loses his positive outlook for long, self-loathing but doing his best not to make that everyone's problem. "Dad did WHAT for the Wardens? Why am I not surprised."

Kiera Hawke - two-handed warrior, romanced Isabella, sarcastic → aggressive, sad bastard warrior Hawke, everyone who gets close to her dies, Bethany dies, good attitude wrecked by the wear and tear of life, loves her buddies who are also terrible, angry and broken. "You tell me where Bartrand is, I'll help you wring his fucking neck"

Alice Hawke - knife rogue, romanced Merrill, circle mage Bethany, p much pure diplomatic, diplomacy as a way of life, mom friend central, no one is irredeemable, far too trusting, kind of a busybody, always thinks she knows best. "Clean your blades, watch your purse strings, don't be a dick."

Delilah Hawke - entropy mage, in love with Varric, pure sarcasm, sends Carver to the wardens, adores her stupid chaotic bisexual family, beat down by this world but stubbornly clinging to joy, flat refuses to talk about her problems. "Where would I be without my trusty dwarf?"

Quinn Hawke - blood mage, romances Anders, red from the beginning, low-key an asshole but also high-key he just doesn't know how to communicate, oldest sibling syndrome turned up to 11, inspired by Harker Zevsurana's Kier, fuck you mage rights. "Well, shit."

Andy Hawke - force mage, romances Anders and Fenris (it's complicated), strong purple laugh-or-cry type, so many canon alterations but the twins both live, grows a lot over the course of the campaign, big fuck the chantry, uses their staff as a polearm bc they're not great at magic, easily my most headcanoned Hawke. "Have any of you guys considered having a normal reaction to anything? Ever? Didn't think so."

Inquisitors

Miriani Lavellan - assassin bow rogue, romanced Solas, confused hardass Dalish girl doing her very best to navigate suddenly being in charge of all of this stuff, cares so much about everyone all the time, terrified but resigned to her responsibilities, self-sacrificing, sense of humor buried under all that sincerity. "I am the Inquisitor, through no virtue of my own. Vir suledin nadas."

Asher Adaar - two-handed warrior, romanced Sera/nobody (bc I meant to romance Sera but didn't know the right dialogue options so I kept waiting for it to pan out and it just sorta didn't), blunt and direct Tal-Vashoth mercenary who gets persuaded that maybe she actually is the herald of andraste, but honestly just wants to handle the things with as little religious and/or political nonsense as possible, blunt and violent. "We save Thedas TWICE, my hand wants to kill me, we save the exalted council specifically, and this is what we get?"

Stephan Trevelyan - rift mage, romanced Cassandra, a good sweet Andrastian boy, true prophet who has a meltdown when he finds out about Solas, best friends with Dorian, keeps the inquisition and wants to really save the world, a genuine idealist, stubborn AF. "Faith is a choice. The Maker set these events in motion so long ago we can no longer see His hand in them."

Samahl Lavellan - tempest knife rogue, romances Dorian, cheerful, sarcastic, and overwhelmed, insanely competent but good at hiding it, terrible little bastard, hates responsibilities, laughs in the face of danger (and Cassandra), keeps insisting he's not the Herald, kinda lazy. "I guess I'm learning now, aren't I, Mother?"

Riska Cadash - artificer knife rogue, romances Sera, direct and sometimes brutal but ultimately caring, criminal upbringing noble fashion sense, besties with Blackwall, andrastian and confused, consistently astonished by how easy it is to get things when you're the most important person in the world, one of my younger inquisitors but she doesn't act like it very often, really only when she's with Sera. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Dahlia Trevelyan - mortalitasi lightning mage, romances Blackwall, cheerfully irreverent young noblewoman flexing the edges of what she's allowed in this new role, filled with chaos and violence and entitlement. Fully does not believe in the Maker. Classically beautiful but with blue-gold eyes that go past "striking" into "genuinely unsettling" and, she caught some shrapnel from a spell gone wrong with her face a few years back so she's got distinctive scars. "Hey, look, at least dragons are real."

The Trio (all of whom have individual playthroughs but also come as a set)

Isene Lavellan - fire/rift mage, romances Iron Bull, primarily jokes and asks questions, basically a horrible mix of Miriani and Samahl. Sweet and a bit of a brat but ultimately up to the challenge. A disaster at the winter palace. Her general response to her workload getting heavier is to adjust the straps that hold the world on her back and carry on with a smile. "Bull, remind me why I accepted this job? Oh, right."

Harea Lavellan - knight enchanter and ice mage, romances Cullen, open minded and sweet, a bit naive but genuinely wants to make the world better, distressed by the mark and the everything but willing to bear it to keep others from suffering. Self sacrifice is a big theme here. Just a little (read: protected like Wynne) possessed by the actual spirit (of Wrath) who was attendant upon andraste, so she is quite literally the Herald. "No one is irredeemable!"

Rogelan Lavellan - sword and shield warrior, romances Josephine, kind of a hard-ass but willing to be romantic, would rather talk than fight but won't give up his ideals, careful and deliberate in everything he does but bold when he's made a decision. Stoic and pithy, but can be eloquent if he needs to. Understands shem bullshit better than most, because he's the kind of guy who studies the things that scare him. "Tell me how to help."

Continuities

Primary "Cannon" Continuity - Aridhel, Ian (or Iris), and Miriani - Protector, Catalyst, Survivor

Strong code of honor - Saffron, Iris, and Asher - Shield, Dagger, Sword

Fucked Up Andrastians - Theodore, Kiera, Stephan - Ambition, Sorrow, Faith

Terrible Senses of Humor - Renan, Alice, Samahl - Vengeance, Kindness, Laughter

Wrongest Choices - King, Viscount, Divine (I haven't actually made this playthrough but is a male rogue cousland, probably a guy Hawke as well and obviously not a mage but idk what class, and fem warrior Trevelyan)

Dwarf Run - Valda, Delilah, and Riska - Honor, Love, Trust

Definitely Not Possessed - Emmaera, Quinn, and Harea - Council, Temptation, Authority

Three Inkies - Ashaterylen, Andy, Rogelan/Harea/Isene - Sacrifice, Victory, Vigilance

[ejzah]

A/N: This is just a little fic that came to me. Set post “Personal”.

***

A Piece of the Truth

“I’ll take three,” Deeks said, eyes focused on the cards he held slightly turned away from Kensi. Kensi obligingly dealt him three cards, and took two for herself.

Deeks raised her five skittles, adding to the pile of brightly colored currency on his hospital tray. Kensi pushed five of her own candies, mind only half-focused on the game.

“Pair of aces, I win,” Deeks announced a few minutes later, gathering his “winnings” towards the opposite side of the table. He hadn’t actually eaten any of them, but poker seemed to be a passable distraction from the pain of his recent bullet wounds.

“You lied to me,” Kensi said abruptly. Deeks paused in the process of gathering the cards together, eyes lowered in true confusion.

“Ok…about what?”

“You told me your dad fired a gun at you six years ago on Thanksgiving.” It came out as more of an accusation than she intended, but Deeks didn’t give any indication that he’d noticed.

“Actually, I think what I said was that I hate Thanksgiving. You inferred that I was saying that my hatred of the holiday was associated with my dad trying to shoot me.”

Kensi marveled at his ability to misdirect while hopped up on heavy duty pain medication. It was as impressive as it was annoying. She didn’t let it get her off track though.

“Quit trying to lawyer me into dropping the subject, Deeks. Why did you let me believe this event happened so recently and downplay the incident? Why make up a story?” she asked.

Deeks went quiet, eyes focused on his fingers sorting through the collection of skittles. It reminded her of when they’d been going through his list of enemies. She’d seen a new, quieter, sober version of him that she rarely, if ever got the opportunity to experience on their short partnership.

“There’s something about telling people that you shot your dad when you were 11 that tends to end conversations pretty quickly,” he replied eventually, upper lip lifting slightly as he let out a dark little huff of laughter. “For some reason they find it unnerving.” He sighed heavily then, tipping his chin upwards. “I suppose I just didn’t want to deal with the preconceived notions and repercussions that come with that reveal.”

“You thought I’d judge you for it?”

“You saying you didn’t when I told you now?” he asked shrewdly.

“I was concerned,” Kensi insisted, pushing back the small voice that reminded her about the shock and disquiet she’d felt initially as well. “That’s a horrible thing to find out about someone. And a terrible situation for you to be put in.”

“Mm, well, it was a long time ago.” Deeks shifted with a grimace, his tone dismissive. “If it makes you feel any better, I take creative license with my life pretty frequently,” he added. “I consider it good practice for covers.”

“Right,” Kensi muttered. There was an awkward little silence, and then Deeks gestured to the cards.

“You wanna play again?”

“Sure.” She dealt out another hand, mind once again focused on her partner. For a man who talked so much, she was finding out she really knew very little about him.

[didyoutrydynamite]

JNRZ Chapter 1 Rewrite

So this was actually a long time coming. Now that I’ve gotten a little more experienced with writting, I wanted to come back and fix Chapter 1 of it’s errors. If you have the time, please read this and let me know if’s good enough to replace the original. The first chapter is the first impression so I want to make it an even better one for new comers.

~O~O~O~O~O~

There were a lot of possible reasons why Jaune's stomach felt like it was collapsing in on itself.

It could have been about how Jaune had run away from home, stolen his Grandpa's sword and shield, and left his Scroll behind so his parents couldn't contact him. He couldn't risk his dad tracking it and dragging him back home.

It could have been because he wasn't going to Beacon Academy anymore. His "contact" that had set up the forged transcripts for him had said there was a sudden change of plans. Instead of studying at his dream school in nice and cozy Vale, he was now going to Bulwark Academy in the frozen far-off Kingdom of Atlas.

It could have also been part of the fact that the shortest way to Atlas was an overnight flight by airship. It is well known how susceptible to air sickness Jaune was, another dot on the list of Jaune's flaws, right between his natural clumsiness and the fact he looked way too good in a dress.

No matter the reason for Jaune's stomach sickness, he could at least confidently say that his ailment was the reason why he was sitting in his own corner of the airship, with his very own complimentary trashcan and air spray provided by the poor stewardess who was tired of cleaning up the bathrooms after his emergencies.

To say Jaune was in a bit of a sore spot was putting it lightly.

Using his newly acquired weapon of aerosolized flowers to fend off the foul odor of his stomach contents turned trash contents, Jaune couldn't help but stare out the airship ship window of the slowly passing snowy wastes of Solitas, soon to be his new home.

I should have asked for a refund. Jaune thought to himself. I had to sell my entire comic book collection to afford those transcripts and then save up my allowance for traveling expenses. Now I'm going to a school I didn't even know the name of. It was already complicated enough to fake my way through Beacon. Now I have to fake my way into Bulwark past the Atlesian military?

And what did the broker even mean by 'change of plans'? The transcripts for Beacon were already official, so why do I suddenly have to go to Bulwark instead? Something isn't adding up…

Before Jaune could ponder his predicament anymore thoroughly, the airship's speakers crackled to life.

"Good evening, passengers. This is your captain speaking, letting you know that our landing will be in twenty minutes. If you'd look out the left-side windows of the ship, you should be able to see the cities as we arrive. I promise it will be quite the view."

Jaune, realizing he was sitting on the left side anyways, swerved his gaze toward the window. Just as he did, his stomach pains had all but miraculously vanished.

The view was… breathtaking.

As the airship crested the mountaintop, it was as if Jaune was on a whole nother planet.

It was a world where great castles with impossibly high spires and towers rested on floating islands in the air. Held aloft seemingly by nothing but large tendrils of steam that reached out from a gaping maw in the planet's crust, like the mouth of a dragon that threatened to swallow the floating citadel whole.

To the side of this unfathomably wide opening in the ground sat another city, less grandiose in architecture than the one that sat just above, but where the latter was basked in cold elegance, the former begged for a warm embrace. The buildings below were spaced closely together as if to hug each other to better brace against the harsh Solitas cold. The entire city itself practically hugged the steaming crater like a man huddling near a campfire in a storm.

As the broken moon rose higher into the sky, the lights of the twin cities became alight under the already star-speckled sky, further contrasting the two as one glowed an icy blue that matched sprawling icy wastes while the one below emanated a deep orange that reflected off the spiraling pillars of steam, reminding Jaune of roaring blaze.

Jaune couldn't take his eyes off the scene before him even as the airship descended toward the lower city. He knew that Bulwark Academy was situated in Atlas just above, but opting for a direct flight to Mantle instead could save him a lot of money.

Even as the airship landed on the runway, the young knight couldn't help but feel excited. He was really doing it. He had just traveled all this way to become a Huntsman, and by golly, he officially came too far to turn back.

With newfound determination, Jaune took his first step out into the fresh Solitas air, with only one thought crossing his mind…

HOLY COW, IT IS COLD!

~O~O~O~O~O~

So turned out Jaune's treasured Pumpkin Pete Hoodie was not exactly built for arctic temperatures. The light material made it so the jacket could be worn comfortably on warmer days, and when you're in Vale, that pretty much means you could wear it most times of the year.

Luckily the hoodie helped better when actually traveling the Mantle streets. The lower city had an advanced heating system that ran along every nook and cranny, warming the local temperatures to a pleasant chilly day compared to the harsh freezing cold outside the walls.

But even with the relief of Mantle's heating network, Jaune knew his wardrobe was due for an upgrade if he was going to be living in Atlas, which brought him to a clothing shop. Sure, he was already dipping into his limited currency. But he considered the expenses necessary, especially if there was a chance that he was going to work out in the wilderness, where most of the Grimm were, and that's where the temperatures were even lower.

On this shopping trip, he acquired some thicker jeans, a pair of large snow boots, some thick leather gloves, a rather fashionable orange turtleneck sweater, and a brand-new black winter coat with a hoodie. For a last-second decision, Jaune had opted to grab an orange wool knit beanie with a white pattern along the hem, matching the sweater perfectly!

After putting the ensemble together with his white armor overtop, the jacket donned, and sword buckled at his side…

Jaune thought he looked good. Damn good!

He even took a few minutes to try some poses in the changing room to catch all the good angles. He almost looked and felt like a real Huntsman!

The shopkeeper must have thought so too because as Jaune was purchasing the clothes, the lady recommended a nearby Dust Shop, a locally owned place called "Dust to Dust."

Jaune had a basic understanding of what Dust was from science classes at school and the stories his dad had shared. It was like a magical rock that could create special effects when messed with.

Some could create fire, some could generate electricity, and some would even turn into water when shattered. But most importantly, it was something real Huntsmen used all the time.

Even if Jaune wasn't a real Huntsman yet (or even a real Huntsman in Training to be exact), it would help him blend in more if he showed up packing some heat, maybe even some cold and some shocking as well!

Which now brought him out in front of a storefront of a shop with "Dust to Dust" hanging above it.

Adjusting his new clothes to make himself look more official, Jaune stepped into the shop, a bell chime signaling his entrance.

A quick scope of the place revealed several shelves and display cases unsurprisingly filled with an assortment of Dust types in different containers, ranging from plastic vials, shotgun shells, glass jars, and even just whole Dust crystals to be sold. Everything had a bright red tag on the glass depicting "Fire Sale" and "Everything must go!"

A funny thought came to mind as Jaune looked over the establishment. It felt more like a coffee shop than an ammo surplus store. It felt surprisingly warm and welcoming.

"Well, hey there, son! Looking for a refill?"

Speaking of warm and welcoming, Jaune turned to the friendly voice towards the store's counter, behind which stood a tall, dark-skinned man with graying hair and a stylish fedora that he wore as easily as a smile.

"Don't be a stranger now. How can I help you?"

Standing taller, Jaune confidently strode towards the counter, "Thank you, kind sir. I'd like to see your finest wares!"

Nailed it.

The man gave a hearty laugh, "First time shopping for Dust?"

Jaune's stature immediately deflated, "What gave it away?"

"Well, when customers walk in, they're usually looking for something precise. And don't usually ask to see what I just happen to have."

"O-oh…" God, Jaune was already screwing this up! How is he supposed to blend in a school for Huntsmen when he already sticks out like a sore thumb shopping for supplies!?

"Now, now, no need to get embarrassed. A lot of the new kids in the game usually don't have too much experience with Dust. Some just usually focus on the fighting and exercising portion before getting into stuff like Dust Alchemy. I'm assuming you're about to start attending Bulwark?"

"Yes sir! I am. I was hoping to get some Dust before school started so I could… uhm… fit in… better." Jaune admitted rather bashfully, receiving another jovial laugh from the cashier.

"I get what you mean, don't want to be the only one showing unprepared for everything huh? What's your name, son?"

"Jaune Arc sir." Jaune held his hand out towards the man, who it for a strong handshake.

"A pleasure to meet ya, Jaune, people around here call me Charles Coal, and luckily for you, I can help you with just your kind of problem."

Jaune couldn't help but feel reassured, the man just oozed a calming, fatherly nature. He accepted the man's help with a nod. "I would greatly appreciate that. Thank you!"

"Good, now let's start with the basics. What arsenal are you packing?"

"I uh, got this sword." Jaune unsheathed Crocea Mors from his waist, receiving an approving grunt from Charles. "And the sheath is also a shield as well." Pinpointing that fact by expanding out the sheath, revealing the Arc Crest on the shining metal surface.

"Not bad. Does either the sword or shield come with a Dust Feed?"

"A Dust what?"

"Heh, I'll take that as a no. Do you specialize in any kind of Dust usage?"

"Oh yeah, I use… Fire a lot. And some Ice?"

"Son. Have you ever used Dust before?"

"No sir…" 

This was just sad at this point. Not even three minutes ago, Jaune had swaggered in as if he owned the place, yet he seemed to have no idea what he wanted.

"Hey, chin up. It's okay. It's obvious from your weapon that you've never had a reason to use Dust in the first place. There's no shame in wanting to expand your arsenal. How about I do this for you," Charles said as he leaned on the counter with both hands. "I'll hook you up with a sort of 'Starter Pack.' A care package of vials filled with an assortment of Dust types you'll most typically use in the field. You can go through them, experiment, and see what works best. I've got a sale going on, so I can get you quite a bit to work with for a fair price. Sound like a deal?"

Jaune nearly boggled at how great of a deal that sounded! In fact, it'd be perfect! He could show up to Bulwark with a whole stash of Dust that he can learn to use. His neck nearly snapped at how quickly he nodded, causing Charles to chuckle.

"Then it's a deal. Hey, while I get the pack together, how about you check out those paper magazine racks over there? Should be a few magazines about weapon engineering, might help you figure out what you could do next after getting a handle on Dust."

"I think I might just do that. Thank you, Mr. Coal. You have no idea how much you're helping me."

Charles casually waved off the praise, "It's my job, son. Ain't no reason to give me a medal for it. When you're a Huntsman one day, you'll do much more than me to help. Consider this an advancement on your good deeds. Now go ahead, rummage through my stuff while I get the Dust ready for you."

With another polite thank you, Jaune headed toward the magazine racks while he waited for his order.

He picked one at random, turning out to be a natural survival sort of magazine, giving loads of tips and tricks for collecting food in the wilderness. He scanned the pages and pictures instead of actually reading them. His mind was too focused on how excited he was again.

With this Dust, his new winter gear, and his forged transcripts, Jaune had everything he needed to start at Bulwark. He would take his classes seriously, get physically fit, fight monsters, maybe get a cute girlfriend, and go on exciting adventures!

Jaune was going to be somebody!

He was so focused on what possible adventures could await him that he failed to notice the front doorbell chimed, followed by a few sets of heavy footprints rushing in.

BANG!

"Get down this a robbery!"

Jaune held back a surprised scream as he ducked down behind the magazine stands.

Peering from behind the Weapons and Engineering section, Jaune spotted several men with guns and metal pipes. They wore white pants and button-up shirts with gray vests, each wearing variously colored flat caps and white masks of varying cartoonish expressions.

"Back up from the counter, Gramps! If I see one finger reach underneath that table, you'll lose it." Said a tall beefy robber who held a fire axe toward Charles

Charles immediately heeded the man's warning. "Please, I don't have much. Just take what you want and go!"

"Now, Charles, is that any way you greet a customer?"

A tall man walked in, puffing on a cigar and swinging a cane. He wore a red-lined white suit with long black pants and black shoes. His accessories included a small gray scarf, black gloves with buckled sleeves, and a black bowler hat with a small feather tucked into its red band. Unlike the others, though, he seemed to have opted to not wear a mask.

"I know the shop is falling on hard times, but is that any excuse for poor service?"

As he talked and walked towards the front counter, he was followed by a young man dressed in similarly white and gray clothes as the other goons who parted way from their supposed Boss, but what made him stand out was the red-ornate coat that hung off his shoulders like a cape and a black bandana and mask that covered most of his facial features and hair.

"Roman Torchwick." Charles seethed. "I don't share my hospitality with people who don't intend on paying. What's the matter? Bigger fish getting too scary that you now have to pick on small fries like me to get by?"

"Harsh words Charles. But I promise it's nothing personal!" Roman said as he crossed his heart. "Sometimes, a successful criminal like me just wants to take a break from bigger franchise jobs and take from the little guy. Give attention to local smaller businesses so they don't feel left out."

"Wise Guy." Roman snapped his finger towards the tall henchman with the axe and a mask of a frowning face. "Make sure our friend here doesn't try to cause trouble while we work."

"Got it, Boss. I'll keep him nice and friendly."

"Funny Man," Roman turned towards another henchman, who could have been an exact clone of Wise Guy if it wasn't for the darker skin, the smiling mask, and his weapon of choice being a sledgehammer. "Get the others and start gathering the Dust."

"Yes sir, Yes sir!" Funny Man saluted as he giggled and started smashing glass displays.

"Red Roger, secure the back of the shop. Make sure it's only the old man here."

"On it." The young man in the black mask nodded and started toward the back of the shop.

"Chop chop, men!" Roman said as he peeled off one of the red stickers on a broken display case. "And remember, 'Everything Must Go!'"

"Hehe, you said it, boss!"

"Oh crap, oh crap!" Jaune quietly said as he backed up further down the magazine aisle.

This is bad! Jaune thought, What should I do? What would a Huntsman do? He'd try to quietly take them down one at a time, even the odds into his favor, then hit them with an all-out surprise attack… CRAP WAIT! I'M NOT A REAL HUNTSMAN!

As Jaune continued to quietly back up, he failed to notice an extra magazine rack behind him, accidentally bumping into it with his hip, right where his Crocea Mors was…

Click.

With a simple bump, the sheath expanded into its shield form, the force launching the magazine rack down the aisle and the shield right off of Jaune's belt in the other direction. The boy quickly dove for it as it loudly clattered to the ground, picking it up and shushing it like that would feasibly quiet down the noise.

Jaune quickly stood up with Crocea Mors in hand, hoping they didn't hear that. He turned to look as every pair of eyes in the room stood looking directly at him, seemingly stunned in place mid-robbery.

"Uhmm, freeze?" Jaune hesitantly demanded.

Unfortunately for Jaune, not none of the robbers decided to drop their weapons. In fact, he heard what sounded like a gun cocking right next to him, causing him to pale.

"How about you freeze, bruv?" said the henchman designated Red Roger in a thick accent, who held a flintlock pistol point blank to the side of Jaunes head in one hand, and a sharp cutlass in the other. From here, Jaune could see Red's bright green eyes through his mask's eye holes, and he painted his nails black based on the index itching towards the gun's trigger. "No sudden movements, bruv."

All Jaune could do was let out a struggled eep as all the criminals around started laughing, Roman Torchwick applauding as he walked closer to the two.

"Very well done, Red. Looks like you caught us a Huntsman." He took a drag and puffed cigar smoke straight into Jaune's face, causing him to cough. "Trying to play hero, kid? How's that working out so far?"

Jaune felt like he should have had a witty comeback for Roman. But instead, his brain defaulted and opted for the truth.

"Could be going better."

This caused a round of laughter from robbers as more decided to stop their crime to join in on the fun of messing with him.

"Aw, look, he's shaking!" Funny Man chuckled ", What's the matter, pal? Ya nervous meeting such a big star like the Boss?"

"Oh, is that what it is, Blondie? Are you a fan of my work?" Roman snarked as he rummaged through his coat pocket, pulled out a marker, and started writing on Jaune's breastplate. "Here's one to my biggest fan, Twerp. Hugs and kisses, Roman."

Jaune looked down to see Roman's message in fancy handwriting, causing Jaune to blush deep in embarrassment as the criminals started pointing and laughing at him.

"Ha! Make sure to tell your friends, kid! You better treasure that with your life!" said the one called Wise Guy as he patted Roman on the shoulder.

"Heh, and as he should." Roman agreed, then quickly afterward had a thoughtful look crossed his mind as he turned to his crony.

"Wise Guy."

"Yeah, Boss?"

"If you're here, who's watching the shopkeep?"

When Wise Guy didn't immediately answer, all eyes immediately turned towards the counter as Charles' hand continuously pressed the silent alarm.

"Uh-oh."

Seeing an opportunity while everyone watched Charles, Jaune expanded his shield and charged through the criminals.

"CHARLES, RUN!"

In his valiant effort, Jaune managed to get a few meters before he felt someone trip him. Having focused all his momentum on charging, the boy flew across the shop, landing shield first on some soft duffle bags. Duffle bags full of the recently stolen Dust.

BOOM!

~O~O~O~O~O~

Despite all the habitual smoking Roman did, he coughed hard from all the smoke that filled the room.

Unfortunately, his unhealthy habit also did nothing in the way to get him used to loud explosions that nearly deafen your ears, nearly as in the case he could still hear the alarms blaring around him, partially from the store's security system and from the cars parked outside blaring their lights.

Luckily for Roman, these specific car lights did not belong to any police cars, but that didn't mean the streets wouldn't be full of them soon.

"Uncle? Uncle!" said the muffled but familiar voice of his sidekick Red Roger.

"I told you not to call me that on the job!" Roman loudly yelled through his tinnitus, pushing his kid nephew to the side as he stomped over to his overpaid cronies. "And which of you idiots had the bright idea to trip him?!"

His two tallest and beefiest henchman looked at each other, Wise Guy being the first to point fingers.

"It was all Funny Man."

"Oh, you little snitch! Why I atta-."

"And why didn't you just grab him?!" Roman asked as he quickly stomped up to the burly masked man ", Instead of, oh, I don't know, tripping him into our haul of highly combustible rocks!?"

"S-sorry Boss! I had to think fast. The kid got the slip on us."

"Hehe, slip." Wise Guy laughed before getting whacked upside the head with a cane. "OW!"

"Hehe, OW! OW, Ok!"

"What do I pay you guys for?!" Roman yelled as he gave Funny Man an extra smack with his cane for that pun. "Come on! We're leaving before the cops get here."

"What about the Dust, Boss?" Funny Man tentatively asked before getting an angry glare from Roman. "R-Right. Sorry."

The dapper gangster stepped through the front entrance, its front door now hanging loosely on its hinges. He glanced around all the broken glass shattered on the sidewalk and street, looking for a particular Blonde nuisance that he was pretty sure launched through the front windows after the Dust ignited. Roman thought he could loot the twerp's chunky remains for that shiny sword, but no armor-clad salsa was in sight.

Scanning the surrounding street, he did catch a scrawny teenager just limping into an alleyway across the street, a trail of blood following behind him.

Oh no, you're not getting away that easy.

"Unc- Uh, I mean Boss!" Red yelled from the open sliding doors of the white getaway van. "Hop in! We got trouble coming our way!"

Even Roman could determine the sounds of police sirens growing closer. But the man was not nearly finished here.

"Head on without me. I'll meet you guys back at the hideout." Atlas's greatest thief ordered. He turned, adjusted his hat, and strolled down the dark alleyway. "That little hero owes me a goddamn robbery."

~O~O~O~O~O~

Everything hurts.

Jaune's mind raced as he limped down the Mantle alleys, no idea where he was going but forward. He wasn't exactly sure what his condition was. Probably a few cracked leg bones, maybe several broken ribs, a concussion, and quite a few cuts and bruises…

Oh, gods, everything hurts.

He wanted to go home, but he realized now how much of an idiot he was.

What kind of Huntsman couldn't stop a robbery!? How could he ever face monsters when he struggled to take down a few armed robbers alone?

He planned to hobble to the nearest port, purchase a one-way ticket to Vale, and endure the arduous journey back to Bourbon on his hands and knees if he had to. Take the grounding and ass-kicking his mom would give him, and stay in that village where it was safe and cozy for the rest of his life!

"Ohhhh, Sir Knight! Where areeee youuuuu!?"

But first, he had to get away from HIM!

Jaune tried frantically to pick up the pace, but there was only so much his legs could do after that explosion.

His breathing became ragged by the time the alley opened up to a sort of steaming canal. The river was flanked by two raised sidewalks with railings that overlooked the flowing water, melted snow that fell within the heated air of Mantle and drained out here.

The injured knight looked down both ways of the river, trying to quickly determine the path to outrun…

"Didn't your mother tell you not to run with sharp objects?" Roman said with smug satisfaction as he strolled out of the dark from behind him. "You could get hurt, you know. You better hand the expensive-looking sword over before you injure yourself further."

"N-no, my mom didn't tell me that. She'd always tell me, 'Strangers are friends you haven't met yet,' but I feel you'd be an exception." 

That's it, Jaune thought. Buy yourself time, Jaune. Keep him talking.

"I'm hurt. If you'd give me an honest chance, I can show you exactly how swell a guy I can be! How about we start over?"

The thief pressed the tip of his cane down to the ground and gave a deep bow.

"Roman Torchwick, leader of the Candlelight Crooks, The Gentleman Robber, the Trickster of Two Cities, and the Greatest Criminal Atlas has ever known!"

"Uh… Cool. My name is Jaune Arc. I'm uh, about to attend Bulwark Academy, and a fun fact about me is I uh… I have seven sisters!"

As they stood in awkward silence, the sound of rushing water from the canal and distant police sirens filled the air. After a moment, Roman broke the silence, his voice laced with astonishment. 

"Seven sisters? I can barely handle the one I have! You have my sympathies."

Jaune let out a small chuckle. "It wasn't all bad. They annoyed each other just as much as they annoyed me. And at the end of the day, I still love them."

Roman nodded, a wry smile on his face. "Siblings, am I right? Love to hate them, and hate to love them."

Jaune chuckled in agreement. "Exactly."

The two not-strangers shared a quick chuckle, taking a moment to take a trip down memory lane of their antics with their sisters.

"Hm, now that we got introductions out of the way," Roman said as he lifted his cane back toward Jaune. "Hand over the sword and shield, Jaune."

Any good atmosphere they shared vanished for Jaune, tonal whiplash nearly breaking his neck. "W-What?! You can't want it now!"

"I can, and I still do. I've got an image to maintain, and I can't allow myself to walk away from a botched robbery empty-handed. I swear, Blondie, I thought you would be much more understanding about this."

Jaune clutched Crocea Mors harder, "You can't have it."

"Well, then I'm just going to have to take it."

Roman adjusted his grip on his cane to hold it more like a club and started stalking toward Jaune, the boy now seeing no way of running or talking his way out of it unsheathed his sword and expanded his shield, trying his damnedest to get into a fighting stance. Due to his lack of training and numerous wounds, the boy was shaky at best.

Due to the knight's intense nerves, he broke first and went on the offensive with a wild swing. Roman effortlessly parried the attack with his cane, his expression revealing a hint of surprise at the ease of it.

The parry caused Jaune to stumble, who took a few seconds to recompose himself as Roman watched curiously yet cautiously.

Jaune charged in again with a yell, going for a thrust this time. Torchwick rescinded by swinging his cane upwards, redirecting the sword, then jabbing Jaune right in the nose with the end of his weapon.

Jaune cried out, trying to cover his now bleeding nose with his shield hand.

Roman looked at Jaune with wide-eyed astonishment, a cruel smile slowly carving into his face.

"You can't be serious."

The Gentleman thief changed his battle stance into a mocking fencer's stance, twirling his cane like a rapier. "Well, come on then! Engarde Blondie!"

Jaune's legs were shaking, he was starting to feel everything hurting again, and he was getting angrier and angrier. With as primal a yell he could muster, the Huntsman in training charged with reckless abandon, unable to properly swing his sword. Roman immediately smacked the weapon out of his hand. The thief followed up the disarm by delivering an ear-ringing open hand slap across Jaune's face, knocking the boy to the cold ground.

The thief stood in awe and let out a belly laugh, greatly amused by the boy below him.

"Oh, you have got to be joking with me!" Roman let out between laughs. "You're no Huntsman at all! You're probably not even good enough for training!"

Roman sauntered over to Jaune's prone body, placing one foot against the back of the boy's head, pressing it deeper into the mushy snow as the thief wrenched off his shield from his arm.

"Now I know that this doesn't even belong to you," Roman said, brushing off some of the dirt that got on his new shield before figuring out how to collapse it back into his sheath. "All this trouble over a sword you don't even deserve, pathetic."

As Roman walked over to pick up the remaining sword, clipping the shield to his waist, Jaune just laid there, face down in the snow, fading in and out of consciousness.

The words stung. Stung worse than the cuts exposed to the cold air. Roman was right. That sword didn't belong to him, he was no better thief than he was, but at least he could get away with it.

Jaune agonizingly turned his head towards Roman as he leaned down and picked up his sword- no, his grandfather's sword. That sword belonged to a true hero. A man who fought for and sacrificed everything to keep those he loved safe.

It doesn't belong to me…

Jaune watched as the smug bastard pulled out his cigar case, leaning against the railing overlooking the canal. The sight made Jaune clench the snow around him, squeezing so tight his knuckles turned white.

But it sure doesn't belong to him either!

As Roman lighted a cigar, Jaune pelted the back of his coat with a snowball. The thief turned to see him barely standing, blood smearing his face as he held another snowball.

"Give it… back." Jaune growled out.

"A snowball? Really? Why don't you be a graceful loser and lie back down in the snow while I finish my victory smoke? Save yourself from any more trouble."

"GIVE IT BACK!" Jaune yelled as he hurled another snowball, sailing just above Roman's head, and plowed right into his bowler hat…

"My hat!" Roman exclaimed as he attempted to grasp his precious headpiece, nearly barreling over the canal's railing as his fingers grazed the wool felt, just a hair out of reach. The hat was carried away by the Solitas winds into the rushing waters below.

"Alright, kid." The hatless thief seethed. "You want your sword back? You can have it after the doctors pull it from your asshole when I shove it down your throat!"

Clutching his cane, Roman turned towards Jaune to exact his vengeance, in time to realize that the stubborn blonde had rushed in and kicked the thief right in the side where Crocea Mors was…

Click.

As soon as the foot made an impact, the sheath had expanded, the force of the weapon's activated mechanisms causing the shield to fly off Roman's waist as he was launched over the river's railing with a surprised yelp.

SPLASH!

Crocea Mors clattered back to the cobbled stone ground next to Jaune. The boy quickly grabbed his family heirloom, then stumbled over to the rail to see the notorious criminal splashing around in the water. Seeing Roman sputter in the dirty city water caused Jaune to chuckle, which then bubbled into full-blown laughter.

"Atlas's Greatest Criminal, my butt!" Jaune yelled down to the river below. If Roman had any witty remark, it was inaudible through the water he sputtered out of his mouth as he splashed around in the river.

"What's wrong, idiot?! Nothing to say now that you aren't so tough?"

"H-Hel-"

"What was that?!"

"Pffft H-Help! I-I can't swim!"

Jaune watched the helpless thief try his best to stay above water as he digested the information.

"Oh. OH CRAP! H-Hold on! I'll uh…," Jaune looked frantically around him for any other souls who could help until he noticed Roman come up for one last gulp of desperate air before disappearing below the water.

Jaune quietly cursed as he dropped the weapon and shed his backpack before hopping off the railing and into the river below.

~O~O~O~O~O~

The two men gasped for air as Jaune pulled Roman and himself out of the river onto a stone ledge, resting above the water line. Next to them were a set of stairs that lead back to the streets above.

Roman coughed up some water and sat on the cobblestone stairs as Jaune lay on the ground, his body aching too much to stand.

The rescued thief watched his unlikely savior for a few seconds as he caught his breath, before stating the obvious.

"You… saved me."

The blonde just tiredly nodded, staring up at the stone bridge that hung over their little platform, saying nothing and prompting Roman to speak again.

"Why?"

"Huh?" Jaune asked as he slowly sat up, scooting his back to the wall to better look at Roman. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Don't patronize me, kid. I was robbing you of your family heirloom and kicked your ass."

"Yeah, but you were drowning," Jaune said. "Just because you're a huge jerk doesn't mean I'll sit by and watch you die."

Roman studied Jaune's face, looking for any hint of deceit. When he found none, he smirked.

"Dumbass."

"WHAT?!"

"I said you're a dumbass, kid," Roman confirmed. "If you're naive enough to save someone who just mugged you, then this Kingdom will chew you up and spit you out." The thief said as he gestured towards Jaune as he sat soaking wet and beaten black and blue…

"Wait a minute. Why isn't your Aura healing your wounds?"

"My… Aura?"

Roman's eyes bulged as he looked at Jaune like he had grown a second head.

"NO!" the flabbergasted crook exclaimed. "No way. You can't be this dumb. Do you not know what Aura is?!"

"I-I know what Aura is!" Jaune defended as he tried to hide his embarrassment. "My dad is a Huntsman for crying out loud. I know what it is. It's a forcefield, right? It protects you from damage and gives you a superpower?"

Roman facepalmed and sighed loudly. "Look, Blondie, it's more complicated than that, but it's technically correct." He rubbed his chin as he organized his thoughts. "Let's see, how do I explain it. Think of Aura as a sort of energy battery that's in your soul or whatever. This energy can be used to do a few things, generate a forcefield as you said, heal wounds, boost your muscles, and even interact with Dust Crystals. And depending on your Semblance, your superpower, it may have to be powered by your Aura."

"And so yeah, a useful battery, but just like a battery, if you use all its energy, you can't use it anymore unless you recharge it. It can also- so- Yes, Jaune?"

Jaune had his hand raised like a student in class. "How does it recharge? Does it, like, feed off your soul?"

"How the hell should I know? You tell me, aren't you going to Bulwark for this stuff?"

"Y-Yeah, I'm going there because I don't know this stuff."

"And you're going there without your Aura activated?" Roman said incredulously. "Well, hot shot, how did you plan on becoming a Huntsman without your 'force field?' It's a miracle you survived that explosion. How do you think you're going to survive a Beowolf claw?"

"I was hoping to find someone there to activate it," Jaune said non-committedly, the idea sounding half-assed and reckless now that he was saying it. "I'll just have to make it work, I guess."

Roman studied the young man closely before sighing and stood up from his seat on the stairs. "Stand up."

"Huh? Why?"

"I'm going to unlock your Aura."

Jaune stood as quickly as his aching body could. "R-Really? You'd do that for me?!"

"Don't get all soft and mushy on me, Blondie," Roman said as he helped Jaune stand straight. "I'm not one for being indebted to people, especially to idiots. Consider this repayment for saving my life by saving yours. You won't last a day in Bulwark without Aura."

"T-Thankyou! So what do I need to do? Do I need to make a certain pose or-"

"Just shut up before I change my mind."

Jaune's mouth snapped shut, not wanting to let this golden opportunity go to waste. He silently watched as Roman placed a hand on his shoulder and one over his breastplate, just where his heart was.

Then he started glowing orange…

"For it is in our cunning that we shape the world to our will. Through this, we defy all odds and obtain our deserved fame and glory. An eye for an eye and honor among thieves, I release your soul, and by my code repays thee."

It was as if the words flowed into Jaune, sinking into his soul and causing something to burst forth. A white light surrounded him as what felt like pure energy began to flow through his being.

For a second, Roman looked tired, but as he watched the light cast over Jaune, he let out a whistle.

"Not bad, Blondie. You got yourself quite the Aura reserve."

Jaune paid little mind to Roman's words as he looked at his arms and saw his cuts close shut and bruises fade away. He could also feel the energy flow through his bones as they healed fractures and repaired his broken ribs. When the glowing faded, Jaune took in a deep breath and felt…

"Amazing." The knight uttered, now feeling reinvigorated and healed. "This is amazing! Why doesn't everyone do this?"

Roman shrugged, "Several dumb reasons. Some morons believe that having Aura attracts Grimm."

"I-Is that true?" Jaune paled.

"Probably not. Anyways now that I've repaid my debt, I'll  get go-"

"ACHOO!"

The tense silence after Jaune sneezed directly into Roman's face was so palpable you could cut it with a knife. The thief looked perturbed as the knight covered his mouth with utter embarrassment and horror.

"I. Am. So sorry." Jaune began. "I didn't mean to a-a ACHOO!"

Another sneeze came, but luckily he sneezed into his elbow instead of on Roman again, who was now noticing that the two of them were shivering cold.

"Well, this won't do," Roman said, reaching into his sopping-wet coat pockets.

"W-w-w-w-What are you doing?" Jaune shivered as his body started shaking.

"O-o-our clothes are wet and were standing in about 30-degree temperature. I can't officially repay you for saving my life if I let you freeze to death. O-o-open your palm."

Jaune tried his best to keep his arm steady as Roman fished out a vial of red Dust and poured some of it into the young man's hand, instantly warming his palms.

"Now that you have your Aura unlocked, here's a good way to use it," Roman said, pouring the vial into his hand. "Watch."

Jaune did just that, observing how Roman closed his eyes and focused, his Aura around his hand flaring first orange, then red, causing the wet glove to steam. Soon the red light spread throughout his form, covering his entire body until it finally dissipated, leaving Roman Torchwick's stylish clothes completely dry.

"Whoaaaa," Jaune said in amazement. "Was that your Semblance?"

"Nope. That was Fire Dust." Roman answered smugly. "And now it's your turn to try. I want you to remember the energy you felt when it first flowed through you. Think hard about what it exactly felt like. Then I want you to focus that feeling on your hand that's holding the Fire Dust. Then when you feel the energy growing, imagine that feeling spreading from your hand across your body. Like water droplets in a shower, or slowly submerging into a swimming pool."

Jaune nodded, took a deep breath, then focused. He imagined the warmth that first spread over him and imagined it all in his palm, growing brighter and hotter. It began to feel intense, like putting his hand near an open flame. Before it got too much, he imagined the heat spreading evenly along his entire body, basking him in what felt like a hot summer's day.

As he felt the heat of the Fire Dust runout, he let his Aura fade with it. After a moment of feeling himself up, he discovered himself to be completely dry and toasty!

"Nice job Blondie!" Roman clapped in approval. "You're a pretty fast learner! I was ready to laugh as you blew yourself up again, but you got it in one shot."

Jaune couldn't help but chuckle, "Too bad. But really, thank you, Roman. You know, I think you'd make an awesome teacher!"

"Oh really?" Roman smiled. "Let me teach you one last lesson about Aura before I leave."

He placed a hand on Jaune's shoulder. "So you know that Aura can be applied as a force field, but I bet you didn't know you had to consciously activate it for it to protect you."

"Really?" Jaune asked. "So it doesn't automatically protect me?"

"Nope, for example..."

Next thing Jaune knew, Roman had swung his leg and kicked him right in the groin, causing him to bowl over on himself and lay on the ground. As Jaune coughed in pain, he squinted up at his teacher.

"W-why would you do that?!" He groaned.

"Don't think I forgot how you botched my robbery, kid. That was payback for all the trouble you've caused me." The thief crouched down and riffled through Jaune's pockets for his wallet. "And this is to cover the expenses for a new hat, jerk."

Jaune continued to clutch his privates as Roman walked towards the nearby stairs, whipped out a cigar, and lit it, letting out a satisfied sigh as he breathed smoke.

"Consider this your final lesson for the day, Arc. This Kingdom feeds off the naive and trusting schmucks like you. If you wanna make it big, you gotta play dirty. And if playing dirty doesn't work, get nasty." With another puff, the infamous criminal turned and smiled at Jaune.

"I expect big things from you, kid. Don't you dare disappoint me." With those words, Roman began his assent of the stone stairs towards the streets of Mantle, yelling back towards Jaune some final parting words as the boy's Aura slowly repaired his nuts.

"Oh, and by the way! Welcome to Atlas!"

[russilton]

Alright I don’t think anyone wants to read all these answers from me but I’ve never been one to shy from divulging internet data so let’s go.

Thank you for the tag @wigglesforonce

Who is your favourite driver?

Gewis Hamussel. I love Lewis and George equally and I’ve stood by this for 3 years and I won’t stop now. If I’m forced to pick one for a form I’ll pick Lewis because I loved him first and longer, but otherwise I refuse to choose.

Do you have other favourite drivers?

I will die for Mercedes Reserve/Junior Frederik Vesti. He’s just such a great little dude, cheerful, calm, confident, I LIKE this small (tall) man. Doesn’t hurt he’s a fantastic driver.

Doriane Pin is also a new favourite. Go go pocket rocket!

I also have a confessed love for Jack Doohan, he’s very gender. I suffer a fondness for Yuki, Zhou and sometimes Esteban and Oscar. I also am quite fond of the McLaren and Penske FE drivers (a deep hate for mclaren makes this very conflicting. I am aware.)

Who is your least favourite driver?

Oooof, now it’s easier to list drivers I like than drivers I hate cause it’s a long list, but the crown really has to go to Max Verstappen, with a supporting role for Fernando Alonso. Most drivers I don’t like fall into one of two characters - shitty on track, and shitty off track. For example, I don’t really have a good reason to beef with Roman Stanek as far as I know, but he fucked my f2 drivers enough on track he is now my mortal enemy. On the other side, Lando Norris is a perfectly serviceable driver. But he’s also a cunt. So fuck him. Most driver fall into both on some level, or confirmation bias reinforces it, but Max and Fernando embody both and I could probably give a TED talk about why they damage the sport for the future. Also they’re *deeply* racist. So fuck them.

Do you root for drivers of do you root for teams as well?

Drivers. I’ll root for the team in the case that constructors points will mean good things for my drivers, but I hate the idea of being a corporate fan. Businesses aren’t your friends. I’ll often use merc as a catch all, because both its drivers are my favourites, so it’s easier to speak about the team as a whole. But if both boys left and they dropped Fred and Dori, I’d drop merc like a hot rock.

If you like teams, who do you root for?

I WILL admit a fondness for certain Mercedes engineers like Bono, Shov, James, etc. The love and passion shown in the debriefs and BTS videos- but I don’t really count that as supporting the team so much as the players? It’s complicated, I just think Toto Wolff and Merc upper management fucking suck. Call that what you will. I like James Vowles and the roll he’s been taking at Williams is impressive, but I can’t really say I support Williams when I’m neutral on the drivers. I’ll generally warn against supporting bosses because it’ll always bite you… but I’m a hypocrite and James come back to Merc pls.

How long have you been into F1?

This will be my fifth season watching now. My first race was Austria 2020

What got you into F1?

My dad has been a life long f1 fan, from the 70’s to now, so I grew up with it always being around, but it wasn’t until I was back home from uni during the pandemic that I sat down to watch with him, because he was finally willing to explain it to me. I also came across f1 memes on Reddit and it got me hooked. I didn’t join F1blr until 22 though, when I discovered rpf content organically.

I’ve been a hamilton fan from day one, he’s a sort of home town hero, and I remember being in the room and my dad’s cheering when he won the first championship. Runs in the family

Do you enjoy fanfic/RPF?

Be fuckin wild if I didn’t, considering I write it lmao.

How do you view new fans?

I say this as the strongest compliment I can— I have no fuckin idea how you guys survive being here given the shit show of the last couple years- but I’m always excited to welcome new people to the Gewis side of things.

I also end up frequently as the guy going “how can you support x given their shitty history ” only to learn someone is like a couple months in and understandably has no idea about that yet, leading to an accidental crash course on the current grids fuck ups. I’m very sorry to those people, it will happen again.

Are your friends and family into f1 as well?

Here and there, my dad is probably the most passionate of them and its my favourite when we can watch together but my mom will ask what’s going on, and my larger family are fans but in the very… het sense of it. We would struggle to watch together. As for friends, my poor long suffering partner let me drag her into it (go follow @thatsmemate ), and most of my friends are from f1blr, so of course they are.

Some of my old ex stevetony friends I still keep touch with don’t watch, but ask me every now and then what’s been going on in the f1 world, because they are deeply sweet.

Are you open to talking to other fans/making friends?

Always. Always, always, always. I am generally a nervous guy in new places and conversations, but once settled I’ll chat your ear off.

I do often need other people to reach out to me first, I can’t often tell when someone wants to speak, so I wait for them to speak first, and when chatting I get forgetful and can struggle to remember to reply when busy. Some people find that a turn off, and that’s fair enough.

What I’m saying is if I don’t reach out first or reply slow. Don’t assume I hate you, I just struggle to juggle all my tasks these days. Disability is a bitch.

Wow, over sharing, I said you’d get it

—

Not tagging anyone bc I haven’t been paying attention so I don’t know who’s been tagged and who hasn’t, and I don’t want to embarrass myself. If you want to join in, I’m your tag.

[a-non-ymouswriter]

Naturally, I am Very Interested in hearing literally anything about Remix. But aside from that, the titles of "God's Most Faithful Hater" and "My Son is the Final Boss" are very intriguing!

The later because I read that Webtoon (among many others); the former because I love Tommy angst /and/ religious themes in this fandom can be really fun. There's no telling what direction any given person will go for DSMP gods and thus no telling what new (to me) ideas they might have that I could fall completely in love with.

...And after looking up what CYMK is, I think I'm legally obligated to be curious about "Wandering The Border". Dimension hopping my beloved.

I hope that's not too many? I have so much fun with your stories, it's hard to cut it down from "all of them, please!"

i very much understand, there's a reason why i listed only those when i have a few more dusting away on my shelf lmao. BUT LET'S GET INTO THESE THREE!!

gonna cut this bc it's long

God's Most Faithful Hater - A DSMP Fantasy AU Summary -> Tommy Innit is the most devout, religious, faithful follower Ranboo has ever met. It's hard to believe at first, but everyday without fail, Tommy would pray to XD, hold the silver and green x-cross necklace (the symbol of his religion and his god's crest) whenever he got angry or anxious, and would reprimand Tubbo if he ever jokingly swore by XD or Prime's name.

Ranboo thinks it's nice that Tommy was so faithful to his god, it wasn't for him personally but hey, everyone had something they put their faith into.

Only he finds out that his initial thoughts to be very much, untrue. Well, Tommy is faithful. But he has no love for XD and his religion, no.

He has nothing but contempt and hatred for the malicious God that sunk its divinity into his very soul.

Details and Thoughts -> basically xd cursed tommy to be 'faithful' and be his unwilling follower.

i got this inspiration from Tanya the Evil, both the anime and manga. for those who don't know, it's about a man reincarnated as a little girl in fantasy imperial germany during world war 1 because he was agnostic and 'god' decides that the man needs to be faithful and believe in god. it's a cool anime, i suggest you pick it up.

but i only took 'forced to be religious' from the anime and applied it AND angst to tommy in this au. the more original side of it is that tommy is unwillingly immortal and constantly haunted and 'put to the test' by xd.

those tests are very dangerous, and the only way to get out of them? pray to xd, praise xd and such to save him, the unworthy and unwilling.

of course sometimes tommy can pass those 'tests' or other situations without praying to xd, but as time passes, tommy just ends up praying to xd. mostly after his past adopted family nearly died because he didnt pray to xd. that past family? sbi ofc but thats for later down the line.

the shot would be focused in ranboo's pov in the first part. how he and the others are friends with tommy and talking about how surprisingly religious tommy was. unknowing that tommy kept praying every day for their sake, and to stave off xd's malicious actions.

make no mistake, tho tommy prays and praises xd outwardly, he still fucking hates the damn god. and his internal prayers always, always has him damning xd. which both amuses and annoys said god, but somehow tommy's prayers are at least genuine and stuff, enough that he has to keep his word and not fuck shit up for tommy.

i'd say more but, we need to get to the others lmao.

My Son is the Final Boss - DSMP AU Wilbur-centric Summary-> None Yet

Details and Thoughts -> so this one is very unfinished and was back when techno was alive actually. around then i was reading a webtoon called My Daughter's the Final Boss or something- basically it was about a dad whose daughter, as told by title, became the final boss of a world-ending apocalypse.

it starts w the dad having to confront the daughter that he had abandoned in the past, who grew up terribly and abused and turned into an apocalyptic event boss. The Final Boss. and in that confrontation he...

turns his back on his allies and tries to protect his daughter from them. dying as a result.

but of course, the webtoon continues and the dad is time traveled back to BEFORE he sent his daughter away (he had issues and shit and was an asshole really) so he decides that he was gonna prevent every bad thing that happened to him, his daughter, prevent the death of his daughter's mother, etc etc

so yeah basically that, but with wilbur and fundy. i think i was reading a lot of fundy angst and sbi angst when i thought of it while reading.

i might revisit this shot again, but morph it bc im trying to catch up with QSMP and i love tallulah. and recently read a fic of fundy and tallulah being twins and i just love that. wilbur gets to be angsty over TWO children lol but no promises it's only an idea that hasn't even flourished

Wandering the Border - CMYK AU Dimension Hopping Summary -> Yeah this one doesn't have a summary either sorry

Details and Thoughts -> it says so on the tin; dimension hopping cmyk! EXCEPT

all four of them are dimension hopping separately and are constantly meeting each other... in the wrong order. in different spanning dimensions, and each of them hop dimensions in differing ways.

for example:

T̸̢̧̞̯̠̖̱͖̙͚͎̈́͒̅͑̇̋͐̃͒h̷͙̻̖̞̾̇̂̎̊̀̈̌̏͝ě̶͖̖͂̔͗̿̌̒͗̔̚s̷̛̫͙̤̯̬͕̺͂̐̊̓̐͒̂̕͠e̶̻̓̍̀͋͘û̶̲̾̊͒s̸͓̉͊̇̃̆͛̀͘͝͝ aka Tommy Innit- Chaos Demon currently cursed with dimension hopping because he pranked his dimension's Chaos Demoness Goddess Drista. He cannot stay in one dimension long, pain will overtake his body if he stays for more than a week, sometimes more than a few days or even hours. It's randomized whether or not he can stay or withstand the pain of staying. He is the 'youngest' and 'latest' of the friend group.

Experiment T-U88-Oasis aka Tubbo - A test tube experiment genius, actually the youngest (he's only been alive for 5 years, 3 of them dimension hopping) but technically the oldest in terms of dimension hopping? He always seems to be the one ahead of the curve, meeting others and referencing meet ups that haven't happened yet for the others. Rare instances of other others meeting a younger him that is so unlike the chaotic, hyper Tubbo that they know of. He stole an unfinished experimental device that lets him dimension hop, he keeps fiddling with it, which makes him hop dimensions- or well, it sometimes short circuits on its own and he's gone.

Lethe aka Ranboo - Initially from a superhero universe, Ranboo's powers were mostly about teleportation. Short range, sometimes long range if he could focus and had the stamina for it. He and his superhero mentor ended up busting a villain lair who was messing with powers. Something happened, Ranboo's powers got MAJORLY messed up and he ended up hopping dimensions and losing his memories. He didn't even know his name was Ranboo or his actual superhero name- Tubbo named him Lethe the first time they met, even gave him his trademarked memory journal. Ranboo's powers are unstable, each use has him forgetting all over again, but slowly, over time he doesn't forget. Slowly though.

Purpled - He's a regular teen and mercenary. He does odd jobs, REALLY odd jobs and somehow he's in every dimension all three of them have been to? Second 'eldest' to the group, he's been at this almost as long as Tubbo has. They have no idea how he's dimension hopping and Purpled refuses to answer it straight, not even Tubbo knows how he's going at it and technically he's the oldest! Purpled's the one with the most mystery, he's 'normal'. Fully human with no powers whatsoever, just pure martial skill, however from his travels that he somehow goes on, he has the most stuff. Weapons, items, etc.

so yeah, dimension hopping cmyk :) again i could go on but this has gone long enough.

maybe ask me again if you'd like to know more. or more about the other shots that are dusting away on my shelves. it was really fun talking about this stuff :DD

[dakogutin]

DAY4 of @dzaddyjamespotter​‘s advent calendar prompts

SANTA CLAUS

(read my other christmas drabbles here!)

The flock of owls flew in with everyone’s mail. Letters and parcels that ranged from the smallest wrappings that would carry a Remembrall, to the latest Broomstick swooped in to drop on the long tables in the Great Hall.

Lily’s came in a small basket, which was revealed to contain vanilla biscuits with adorable Christmas-themed decorations as icing.

She happily nibbled on some before offering to everyone around her. 

Sirius was quick to voice out his fascination, having never been exposed to muggle traditions especially when it came to Christmas. James appeared to share the sentiment but was oddly more subdued, staring and mostly letting his eyebrows do the reacting. Remus was looking at both of them in an expression she was sure to also be displaying on her own– fondness.

It was her first Christmas away from her family. This wasn’t a decision of haste, or out of coercion, despite what many continued to believe. Admittedly, even she found the real reason hard to believe at times. But that was all it was, disbelief, only because it was absolutely surreal.

She wanted to spend Christmas with James.

“Don’t forget to leave some for Peter,” she said as James and Sirius continued to riffle through each design.

“What’s this?” Sirius asked, raising one biscuit.

“A reindeer.”

It was a simple answer, and yet it prompted an odd look to be exchanged between the three of them. An inside joke, it seems. She brushed it off with a roll of her eyes. 

“And who is this?” It was James, this time, who asked. “This your dad or something?”

Just as Lily glanced up to discern the biscuit in his hands, Remus burst out laughing.

“What?” James glared at Remus, throwing the biscuit at him.

“Oi! No wasting my biscuits, Potter,” Lily chided but had to also hold back her own giggles.

“James, I’d like you to meet Santa Claus,” Remus eventually said when he’d recovered. “You too, Sirius.”

“What exactly is he?” Sirius asked.

“He gives gifts to everyone,” Lily supplied, “mostly children, but I hear he gives an exemption to adults on the nice list.”

Sirius scoffed. “You’re bullshitting me.”

“No, of course it’s not as easy as that,” Remus cut in, “but you can catch him while he’s on his trip around the world. Maybe you can talk to him about having your gift. Plead your case that you deserve to be on the nice list.” 

Lily doubted that would be received as anything but farfetched given Sirius’ already rising suspicion, but she had underestimated James on her side…

“Catch him?” he reiterated.

She met Remus’ eyes, which were glinting with mischief. He was quick to disguise it as excitement for James’ brewing idea. “Yeah, that’s a thing muggle children do. Stay up on Christmas Eve to catch Santa.”

It just now struck Lily how much of a bloody expert Remus was with lying. He was twisting the truth with an ease that only someone who did it everyday would have. She figured it made sense, judging from who his roommates are.

“Yeah,” she chimed in, “just prepare some warm milk and cookies by the tree where he drops the gifts.”

“Nope,” Sirius declared. “I refuse to believe this. I know you’re lying, Remus. I’ve mastered all your tells.”

“Because I haven’t done it myself,” Remus bit back in defence. “But even if that’s the case, Lily is explaining it to you very clearly. Are you saying she’s lying too?”

“Well, Sirius? Are you?” Lily raised an eyebrow. 

Sirius could only glare back. He may have lucked out with knowing Remus too well, but he was never going to be able to tell if Lily was lying. She didn’t have to be as skilled as Remus was. He was halfblood, while Lily was a muggleborn.

“Wouldn’t hurt to try, though, yeah?” James suggested quietly. 

Sirius groaned.

“We can use my cloak. You two have to come with us, though. So if this Santa doesn’t show up Sirius and I can immediately set our revenge into motion.”

“Of course,” Remus said easily while Lily grinned back.

Why had she not thought of spending Christmas with them sooner?

[jodilinbio]

NOTE: This next section was updated in 2002 and edited for sharing in 2024.

I’ve been home for ten months now, and so far, there have been no additional legal problems—nothing major, anyway. However, we did have to shell out an additional $60 to get me a mental health screening that was supposed to be covered by the state. Part of the terms of my probation stated that I must have an “immediate” mental health screening. Well, six months isn’t very immediate, so why they didn’t do this while I was still in jail beats me. But you know how it is—the courts can bend the rules as they see fit.

I know that as long as we live in this house, we’ll always be potential targets of the very sick people who turned my life upside down, all in the name of hate and revenge. The question is: how much hatred do they still harbor toward me, and how brazen and invincible do they feel about showing their dark side even more?

“Don’t worry about it,” Tom assured me. “Their connections are in Phoenix, not here.”

But I do worry. After all I’ve been through because of these sickos, I can’t help but worry. It’s been five long years now, with them obsessively making my life a living hell, with nearly two more to go, at the very least. I have no reason to believe they’re just going to go away.

“Why should they?” one inmate said to me while I was still in jail. “They already know they can get you through our joke of a legal system, so why should they quit torturing you now just because you moved? Look how much worse they’ve affected your life from a distance than when they were just a few feet away. You said it yourself; they took full control of your life. Before, they were just a noise nuisance. Well, honey, it’s up to you to take back your life because they aren’t about to give it to you.”

Fortunately for me, I have an uncanny knack for sensing impending danger, though I don’t usually sense good things on the horizon. Right now, I don’t sense any immediate trouble. If they’re going to get me through the law and set me up again, I wouldn’t expect it to happen until the end of probation. If they plan on coming after us or doing something to the house, it would probably happen right after the probation ends. It’s going to be hard for this sick bitch to suddenly have no connection to me. I know her type—someone who likes to be in control. First, she lost the connection she had to us by being our neighbor. When she loses the connection and control she has through the law, there’s no telling how she might react.

Still, I get a little paranoid every time I hear a vehicle drive by. I’m always looking out the window. Not just because I enjoy the wildlife and the beauty of the view, but because I’m always watching for the telltale sign of dust that says someone’s coming down the road. I hope and pray it’s just some harmless soul who doesn’t care that I exist any more than I wish to acknowledge their existence.

In November, the pump on the well went out, and we had to shower at Mary and Dave’s place. We got a bigger pump and switched from plastic piping to galvanized piping, which cost over five grand. Tom’s mother paid for it, and while I’m very grateful, I also feel she owed us, considering the time and money she took from us early in our marriage. Even though the time can never be replaced. She was supposed to give us money, as well as Mary, David, Ray, and Steven—money that both she and Dad agreed to give us before he died. But she never did.

In February, our heat pump sprang a Freon leak.

Backing up to my release: I wasn’t let out of my cell until 5 a.m., but that was okay because they usually pull you out at 2 a.m., and I’d have just sat in the crowded, smelly holding cell even longer, with no place to lay down and relax. I actually fell asleep while waiting.

As the escort and I passed J Dorm on the way to the outtake area, the door opened, and out popped Pérez. “I saw your name on the list, and I wanted to say goodbye,” she said, extending her hand toward me.

I was glad I got to say goodbye to her, along with a few others who were awake, pressing their hands against the Plexiglas window, to which I pressed mine as well in a final farewell.

Due to only sleeping a couple of hours and being so excited, I didn’t really say all the things I wanted to say to her, but that would come later in a letter I wrote to her a year after my release. Instead, I excitedly exclaimed, “This is it! I don’t believe it! The time’s finally come!”

“I told you it would,” Pérez said.

After sitting in the holding cell for about an hour, we changed out of our uniforms and left. Tom pulled up in the car, and I ran out into the parking lot and jumped in next to him. We hugged and kissed on the way out of the lot, then headed for a fast-food drive-through. Oh, how wonderful it was to have burgers, chicken strips, fries, and shakes! Real, honest-to-God American food. Chinese and seafood were my favorites, and I was determined to catch up on that as well.

After getting our food, we headed toward the house with me chatting excitedly about seeing Houdini. That’s when Tom told me he was dying, and I nearly choked on my chicken strip. Here was yet another thing these degenerate fucks had taken from me—the last six months of Houdini’s life. He looked awful when I got back to the house, and he died two days later. Harry, the rat Tom got to replace Ratsy, died shortly after as well. A few days later, we went to the pet store and bought Sneezy and Little Buddy.

Sneezy’s the strangest rat we’ve ever had. All rodents are curious, love to explore, and would gladly escape their cages if they could, yet Sneezy, who has worse allergies than I do, never does. I could leave the cage door open forever, and he’d never climb out.

Little Buddy is by far the best rat so far. He’s smart, playful, and loving. He loves to come out and explore, and he loves attention too. I share my weekly treats with him. He really loves ice cream, but most rats will eat almost anything!

We only had one mouse left by the time I got home, so we bought a few more the same day we got the rats. I’ve tried breeding black-and-white mice, which are Teddy Bear’s favorite, but so far, I haven’t been successful. I have plenty of others for her to choose from, though, if I do end up seeing her.

At first, I thought Teddy Bear wouldn’t wait and that she’d contact me around Christmastime, but then I realized that being the dedicated professional she is, she’d definitely wait the whole year. That’s okay, though, because I know good things are worth waiting for, even though I miss her a lot.

I opened my Christmas presents, which had been sitting there for four months.

On top of having satellite TV, we also got a satellite connection to the internet. MP3s had become a big thing, and I was having fun collecting them.

At first, I was overwhelmed by all the appointments I had to keep up with. I had to go somewhere related to my probation at least three times a week. Two days after my release, which was on a Monday, we went to Phoenix to the probation office. We met with a guy I’d never heard of before. I filled out forms, got treated like a child with all the things I wasn’t allowed to do, and then waited until mid-May for a courtesy transfer since I now lived in Pinal County instead of Maricopa County.

Then we went to Casa Grande to meet Scott, the guy who would be my probation officer. Scott was a somewhat short, stocky guy, the same age as me. I nicknamed him “Apple Cheeks” because of his chubby face. I never disliked Scott, but I never liked him either. The humorless guy always struck me as the insensitive type. I’m polite towards him, but not friendly. That’s how I usually am these days toward most people anyway.

We went through the whole spiel again about what I could and couldn’t do, but as far as I was concerned—although I didn’t tell him this—no one was going to tell me how to live my life once I was back in the freedom of my own home. If I felt we needed a gun, we’d get one. If I wanted to associate with Paula, who had a record, I would do so. No state, county, or person was going to pick and choose who I associated with, where I went, or what I did. It was my life, and goddamn it, I was going to take charge of it once and for all! I was powerless when it came to payments, reporting, and house calls, but I was determined to be in the driver’s seat of my life in as many other ways as possible.

Although I’ve considered absconding many times to break free from the hold these twisted people still have on me, I’m sticking around and enduring the bullshit I don’t deserve, hoping that someday it’ll finally be over. Maybe I shouldn’t be optimistic about this, and maybe running would’ve been the right thing to do in this case, but with nowhere to run to and my determination not to let these assholes run me out of my own home, I’ve decided to stay put.

The Casa Grande visit turned out to be one of the most humiliating and degrading experiences of my life because I had to pee in front of a female probation officer for their routine drug test.

Besides having to pay $40 a month in “processing fees,” I have to report to Scott twice a month and deal with unwanted home visits from him as well. I don’t mind if he visits when I’m awake, but I���m not fond of people inviting themselves over while I’m sleeping. His visits are erratic. For the first four months, he came once a month. Then a few months went by without any visits. Lately, he’s been coming every two to four weeks, though January was the only time he came twice in one month. Still pretty ridiculous for a letter.

The community service turned out to be easy enough, and I was surprised that it was something I could do at home. I was grateful to have a tub separate from the shower stall and one that was so big because it was needed to soak labels off bottles. Gina, who ran the community service at the town’s recycling center, had us come in, pick up empty wine bottles, then soak them until we could scrape off the labels. After that, we’d drop them off at some guy’s place where they used the bottles to make decorative pieces. They melted the bottles down to make things like plates for pots and other items. Every other week, I picked up a couple of hundred bottles. By September, I had completed my community service.

I saw Helen about half a dozen times between June and October. She had supported me with cards and visits to the jail, and she continued to be encouraging after my release.

About a month after I got out, Mary contacted me. She asked if I’d be willing to help her write a book about her life. She told me she was determined to do this, even if it only helped one person, and I agreed to help her. We started exchanging letters, and in them, she included bits and pieces of her life for me to type up. I don’t know if we’ll ever get a book published, but anything’s possible.

I told her about Teddy Bear, and she told me the last time she saw her, she had dyed her hair dark red, to my surprise, and was growing out her bangs. I can’t wait to see her, either way!

Though we have home improvement plans, such as fencing off the property, building porches and a garage, putting in a pool, and planting privacy plants, there’s no telling when we’ll have the money to do it all. We’ll probably have to do it a little at a time.

As I predicted, Maricopa is slowly but surely building up.

For now, I try to take it one day at a time and hope for the best. I hope these people will someday be part of our past, rather than part of our lives like they have been for so long now.

Instead, I hope to have Teddy Bear as a wonderful addition to my life soon enough, though I can never know for sure what will happen between us or if I’ll even see her again.

Tom, the man I’ll love forever, still works at Bank of America and is mostly on the third shift these days.

[doctorwhonerdadi3]

Ranking Doctor Who Episodes from Series 1

I’ve previously claimed that Christopher Eccleston is my favourite doctor, and most of that is due to nostalgia. But let’s look back at his series and do a bit of a dive into which episodes I like and why.

There are 13 episodes in this series, but for the sake of my rankings I will be counting 2 parters as 1 episode, meaning there are 10 rankings in this video.

That being said, let's begin.

Number 10: The Long game

The Long Game is hated amongst most of the Whovians for a few reasons.

So humans are on a spaceship with no aliens around, even though they're not banned. They broadcast the news from their head and it is all run by the Bad Wolf Corporation.

Despite having Simon Pegg in this episode, it is just kind of low par.

And I really dislike Adam in this episode.

Number 9: Aliens of London/ World War Three

The Slytheen family aren't that bad. They just have a simple sense of humour. They're supposed to be a bit of fun.

These episodes provide us with Jackie slapping the Doctor, and Mickey saving the day. He really proved his worth.

Rose just trusts the Doctor whole heartedly in this episode, but we are reminded that she is just a kid.

Number 8: Rose

Despite being the episode that brought back Doctor Who, it is a bit subpar to the other episodes in this list.

It was nice to see the autons as a villain but some of the special effects in this episode were bad even for the 2000s (Auton Mickey).

Rose saved the day in this episode claiming she's got no A Levels, no future etc. It was a nice speech but in the end all she did was Tarzan swing at the doctor and then he literally had to catch her. At least it worked?

Number 7: The End of the World

This is a series which definately builds and gets better throughout the most part.

The End of the World is sweet. That's pretty much all I can say about it. I liked Jabe, but she died.

A lot of people died in this episode.

Also, Rose really comes across as racist in this episode. Then again I think she is also homophobic (as seen in the Empty Child and the Doctor Dances when Jack goes to flirt with the guard).

Not much to say about this episode. It's sad that no one saw the planet die. And I like Cassandra.

Number 6: The Unquiet Dead

This is the episode which is classed as the Christmas special in this season, even though it came out in March. It's set at Christmas and features Charles Dickens.

I enjoy the characters in this episode and the plot. It's a sweet episode.

It is also the first episode where we see Rose and the Doctor as true companions, holding hands and ready to face death together.

Number 5: Father's Day

This is probably what would happen if you took a 19 year old travelling through time and space. She'd want to save her dad.

I think this episode is rather dark. The Doctor and Rose argue a fair bit, and then the Doctor dies.

It is nice that it's not Rose or the Doctor who saves the day. It's an ordinary man, Pete Tyler, being brave.

Number 4: Bad Wolf/ The Parting of Ways

A great finale.

The Daleks are back.

The Anne Droid.

Jack.

What more can you want? Plus, this being Eccleston's last couple of episodes, it means a lot.

His 'No' speech is amazing. His speech about being Fantastic is brilliant.

My only problem with this is it dated itself a little bit. Yeah Big Brother has come back now, but it's not the same as it was back in 2005.

Number 3: Boom Town

There is one person in this episode that annoys me, and that is Mickey. He asks to spend time with Rose, asks her to get a hotel room and basically hints that he wants to jump on the bed and do the bad thing- and then he tells her he's seeing Trisha Delany and that by being with Rose he's cheating on the girl from the shop.

The scene with the teleport is funny.

Jack brings out a darker side to the Doctor. The Doctor says no to taking Blon (Margret) to dinner, but as soon as Jack says he can electrocute her, he's suddenly down for it.

It's overall, just a really well acted episode, and I enjoy watching it.

Number 2: Dalek

My sister told me that her first memory of Doctor Who was seeing Adam and Rose on the stairs, and Adam is mocking the Dalek for not being able to get up them, just for it to say "Elevate" and start levitating.

This episode is brilliantly written.

And it's the first time we hear "You would make a good Dalek" and it actually means something.

Number 1: The Empty Child/ The Doctor Dances

Are you my mummy?

These episodes are terrifying and wholesome both at the same time.

The winner in this 2 parter is love.

The speech about everyone living is great, and the woman who says her leg has grown back makes for a funny little gag.

We are intoduced to Captain Jack in this episode.

Plus, Colin Baker (the 6th Doctor) claims that these two episodes of Doctor who are his favourite. (He said this on a panel at London Comic Con).

So what do you think of my list? Do you agree? Let me know. As always, remember this list is just opinion based and you are entitled to your own opinion.

Stay wibbly wobbly guys!

[devilherself666]

Japan at last

Master List.

As the plane landed on the ground after hours, Jimmy yawned from the long nap he had taken, as he stepped off the plane, and looked around. “This is not home.” He spoke. Chester nodded softly. “We will not understand us, if we do not learn their language.” He spoke. Jimmy looked at chester. “Oh you are fucking kidding right?” He asked, and Chester shook his head. “They will not understand us either.” He spoke. Jimmy rubbed his face in frustration. “I do not have time to learn a stupid language!” He spoke. As the rest of the group got off the plane, Alice looked at them. “I know a little Japanese.” She spoke and Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “I am not even going to ask. Let's just get into a hotel. Alice, you do the talking and make sure you get the best rooms, rather than the first thing I do here is kill someone.” He spoke, and they all walked to the limo, and put their stuff down inside the trunk and rode to the best hotel in Japan. 

When they arrived, they all got their stuff and went inside, as Jimmy looked at Alice pushing her up to the man behind the desk. “Hell, can I have eight rooms please?” Alice asked in Japanese, as the man nodded slightly. Handing her the keys to the room. “1,547,900 Yen.” The man spoke, Jimmy looked at Alice, as she took him the price he would have to give him in his Russian Ruble. Jimmy gave the man ten thousand dollars. The man went to protest but Chester shook his head, and Alice looked at the man. “For your life, do not say anything.” She spoke. The man just nodded, as they walked up to their rooms, while Chester held Jimmy and his own bag. 

“Now that I am here, I need to find out the place where my brother is, he can’t be no later than nineteen years of age.” Jimmy spoke, as he leaned on the wall. “I am sure we will find him.” Chester spoke and Callum cackled like a gremlin. “Oh god so many people dressed up as anime men! Ugh! I am having a gang bang tonight!” He cheered and Roux smacked him upside the head, as May was covering Remi's ears. “Virgin ears Callum! Keep it that way!” Roux spat and Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I do not give a shit what you do, but you get HIV because you can’t use a condom, or AIDs, I will kill you. At that point you would be nothing but a dead weight just waiting to die.” he spoke as Callum nodded. “Condom it is!” He spoke.

They walk out the elevator, and Alice hands everyone their keys. “I do not give a shit what you do while we are here, but I call. You come, you got that?” He asked. They all nodded. “Yes sir!” They spoke as they all ran to their rooms, and Jimmy walked to his with Chester. Unlocking the door, he sat down on the bed, as Chester shut the door. “Jimmy, all she told you was that he was in Japan, that wasn’t much to go on. So why come now?” He asked and Jimmy rolled his eyes. “I have a reason to get out of that shit hole, I am going to take it. Plus, running in Russia isn’t fun anymore when everyone is scared of you and wants to die.” He spoke honestly and Chester nodded in agreement. “Well I am sure glad we found that note then if you were getting bored.. Being bored is never ever good for you.” Chester spoke and Jimmy nodded his head side to side, agreeing. “Yeah, I thought about burning a town down, but eh their screams wouldn’t have been known, plus. If my dad is looking for my brother too, then if I am in Japan. The better chance I have to be able to catch him and kill him.” He spoke to Chester and He nodded slightly. “Well I see you have a solid plan.” He spoke. Jimmy nodded. “I do, I regret not knowing anything when I was sixteen, I could have killed him then, but now. Now I know everything there is to know about this murder thing, so he will pay for what he did to me and my mother.” He spoke and Chester sat on the bed. “Are you sure you are alright?” Chester asked and Jimmy pushed him off his bed. “Out.” He spat and Chester nodded, as he grabbed his stuff and left the room, to go to his room. 

Jimmy laid back on the bed and looked at the ceiling. The thought of his father getting a hold of his brother scared him more than anything. When Tony killed his wife, Jimmy’s mother. He got lonely, bored, restless. No one to take it out on, but one person. His son. Nights, and days on in. Jimmy would be tied to a bed, being only seven. “Let me go!” He yelled at his father. “No, you are my toy now!” he laughed. “No I am not! I am your son!” He yelled, tried pulling on the strings, but nothing was working.. “Too bad!” He spoke, as he would rape Jimmy for hours, until their was blood on the bad. The thing was. Jimmy felt nothing, but he saw the face when his father was about to cum, and he hated it. Jimmy didn’t feel the pain, but he heard the groaning, and the moaning, the slapping of his own fathers ball hitting his ass, he heard what was happening. He just didn’t feel it. 

That happened everyday for nine years, until his father finally left when Jimmy turned sixteen, because he was bored of Jimmy, and wanted someone else. Tony liked the thrill of it being someone that was in his bloodline, someone who was willing to scream, and because Jimmy didn’t scream. He thought Kaida might. 

Jimmy breathed out deeply, as he plugged his phone in, and laid on the bed already being in comfortable clothes, he turned on the television, as he texted Chester. “Come here.”, the door opened and Jimmy patted the other side of the bed, and Chester shut the door, locking it, before sitting down beside him. Chester didn’t ask, he already knew Jimmy wanted him to stay, Jimmy put his head on Chesters shoulders and sighed deeply. “I need to go into town, get some things. I can’t be asked.” He spoke, Chester chuckled. “Get some rest, we will go later.” He spoke honestly and Jimmy nodded. “Okay.” 

[winderlylandchime]

1/2 And we are at 5x08. There was a 20 minute break and he had to call our mom and when she told him he’s being ridiculous, he went ‘but moooom, they played you are my sunshine song while he walked away’ He also keeps giving me a side eye and just looks pissed at me. The episode starts with Brian fucking guys off the list ‘what the fuck is this shit? *looks at me* can you imagine if Justin’s name was on it? We all know Bri Bri is gonna win this childish game, so just wrap it up’ *looks at me during the Brian/Brandon bar scene* ‘why is Bri dressed like he’s pushing 70? Where is the leather? Where is the brown jacket?’ ‘So now Mike and Justin are best friends? Nah. I want a refund! I liked this when Mike was normal and Justin was with Brian. But this? No. (Justin says mike has done plenty) mhm, aint that the truth. (Justin says hes wanted things for long time) since when? Episode 4 of season 5? This is brand new! Stop lying to me. And you. FUCK YOU MIKE! Bri didnt ruin the friendship! You did! You let your stupid new friends talk shit about him to him and did nothing! He’d burn their house down if that was you. Im so fucking sick of everyone being so rude to Brian’ ‘ugh. So let me get this: brian and Justin are forced apart cause the writers suck. Lindsay and Mel are playing house again even tho they suck even more. Ben and Mike are fucking annoying. And Emmett has a stalker. Throw this whole fucking season away right now *looks at me suspiciously* unless if they get back together in the next 40 minutes’ and we are with Brian/Ted ‘HE DID LOSE THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE! Finally someone says it! Fuck the best friend tho. I hate the fact that he makes jokes instead of talking his feelings out (Thee frigid bitch scene happens) *gasp* OH MY GOD. *pauses tv after Brian says he lost two people who mean the most to him and just stares at the tv with his mouth open and then slowly turns to me* he actually did it. Where the fuck was *waves his cast around* this shit after season 4? I have to process this, give me a second.’ He then went outside to smoke. He then walked in and went ‘i want to fight his dad. And his mom. Hug him and smack sense into Justin.’ We are now at the scene with Drew and Em ‘DREW?! HES BACK? He’s getting divorced? He’s being blackmailed? What the fuck is going on this season?’ ‘This bet is actually so fucking dumb. Would make sense in season 1 or 2 but not now. *looks at me like ive never seen qaf before* i told you they made him all season 1 again! What happened to the bike race? And the spending time with Gus? AND JUSTIN! And cancer? Although im okay with that fucker gone. shit the last dude on the list is leaving the country? Damn. That’s sad. Oh well, back to Justin we go’ And we are at Justin/dad scene ‘why is he wasting his time with him? (Craig calls Justin an abomination) the only abomination here is that hair. (Craig says justin is the reason for divorce) *throws a pillow at the tv* FUCK YOU’ ted tells his story about the fraternity and how he got punched for having a crush ‘Ted, if that was me, i would’ve protected you! Although i never stayed longer than a few months in college but id still protect you!’ And we are on the plane scene with Brian ‘BRIAN! Where the fuck is he going? NO FUCKING WAY! That’s actually fucking hilarious, im not gonna lie. *starts laughing/almost fake sobbing and puts his hand on his face* and I actually thought he’d let that stop him. But he needs to go back to Justin. Please’ ‘BRIAN AND EMMETT! They keep giving me little moments like this just to tease me. Emmett please, knock some sense into him about Blondie! You’re my last hope since nobody is fucking listening to me.’ And it shows that Drew got outed ‘WHAT THE FUCK?! Oh god, this is bad!’ ‘HE DID NOT GET BLONDIE ARRESTED! OH MY FUCKING GOD. Wait hold the fuck up *spreads his arms out like he wants to run but doesnt know what direction* someone call brian to bail him out that way: BOOM they get back together! Im surprised he hasnt gotten arrested sooner tho. Love him but hes a bit dumb’

He's pissed at you like you wrote the show. LOL

(Justin says hes wanted things for long time) since when? Episode 4 of season 5? This is brand new! Stop lying to me. And you. FUCK YOU MIKE! Bri didnt ruin the friendship! You did! You let your stupid new friends talk shit about him to him and did nothing! He’d burn their house down if that was you. Im so fucking sick of everyone being so rude to Brian’ Just speaking the truth Brother Anon. I completely agree.

Brian says he lost two people who mean the most to him and just stares at the tv with his mouth open and then slowly turns to me* he actually did it. Where the fuck was *waves his cast around* this shit after season 4? I have to process this, give me a second. That scene with Ted gives us so much. But whatever S5 giveth, it taketh times ten.

THEY MADE HIM ALL SEASON 1! Truer words have never been spoken.

Brian should have been the one to bail him out. MAYBE YOUR BROTHER CAN WRITE A FANFIC WHERE THAT HAPPENS

[kun-summacumlaude]

SUMMA CUM LAUDE? #19

I am grateful to God for the completion of my second year in the university. 18 long months but it’s finally done. 

Welcome back my people, I have a number of things to include in this post, I’ve listed them so I don’t forget. Okay I just took a look at the list, and I don’t think I can remember what I was supposed to say concerning some of the things there. 

Actions Have Consequences

I was going to write about how I didn’t study during the election break, but I re-read that part of #18 and saw that I already mentioned everything. But now that the semester is over, I want to let everyone know that I didn’t really cover up for that one month. I tried hard, but the workload was more than I expected. I gave it my best but this time I won’t be so surprised if I don’t get away with it. In short, the feeling after my exams was that I could have been more prepared.

At this point I’m supposed to talk about how tough it was, but I cannot remember what “it” is. I’m guessing that was when I was really struggling with catching up on everything because exams were getting closer and closer, and I was just not ready for most of them. Guys, it was very tough. Before I go to extra-curriculars and other happenings I’ll talk about those little things that made the semester even more difficult for me. 

The little inconveniences.

The Office: I’m sure we all know about the office and its importance to me last semester. Well, a change in the seat position of my friend’s dad in the office was the end for me being able to study there and this was the beginning of my studying issues because I had nowhere else to go. I’ve already explained why the library couldn’t work for me. This was the reason I had to try studying on my bed in my room from 6pm and it didn’t work because I was always sleeping off. 

The “beam” for my bed: At some point last semester, the iron under my bed broke on one side and I used a bandage to hold it. That was okay for when I only needed to sleep on the bed but not this time around when I needed to study on the bed. I called the welder to get it fixed, it took this guy forever to show up. I don’t even know what he looks like because I wasn’t there when he came. Shortly after it was fixed, the other side of the same beam broke, broke as in separated from the rest of the bunk frame. I was back to square one. I called him back and he didn’t take ages to show up this time around. How did this beam affect my studying? Productivity on the bed went up by a lot when it got repaired. Studying was easier because there was something firm under me keeping me in the more comfortable position and I stopped sleeping. At that point, I began to regret not getting it fixed at the start of the semester. It made a huge difference. (God’s hand was in this though because a more comfortable bed means better sleep).

The essay: For the third time, that essay was a mess, and it made a mess. My lecturer was really bad this semester, but I still blame myself. Maybe this one is more than a little inconvenience though.

My stomach: I think I’m being a bit hard on myself and the reason is my stomach. There was a period where I was so fed up with how sensitive my stomach was. Every time I had the opportunity to leave my hostel early and study for a long period of time, I ended up having to wait behind because I needed to use the toilet. At some point I was only eating rice and spaghetti just to avoid this but that wasn’t enough. Shop 10′s ofada became my enemy this semester. After the second time, I never ordered it again, but those guys don’t listen at times and a few times I had to eat the oil and just the oil was enough to cause me problems. My stomach did not work with me this semester.

The Plank: this was one of those good little things God brought my way. I’m grateful for that plank, it made studying on the bed much easier. 

Now I’m meant to show you a cumulative curve, I don’t think I remember what I called a cumulative curve that day, it’s either my cgpa progression, the cgpa progression I use to set my goals, or I’ve totally lost track of what the cumulative curve is about. I’ll just show you both. The goal is to get at least a 4.50 every semester. So far, I’ve done well. I hope it’s 4/4 when all results are out for the just concluded semester. 

ULES & SEES Elections

Part of the plan for this semester was to be more involved. Well, I was definitely involved in the elections. Too involved even because tell me why there was drama within my department, and I was at the centre of it???

April 1, 2023: Yemi (Metallurgical and Materials Engineering, Year 4) approaches me to be on her ULES VP Campaign team for the upcoming elections. I agree because at the time I don’t really care, and she came to me before anyone else (I was recommended to her by a close friend). So Yemi and I get to work along with the rest of the campaign team, my duty is to get her votes from my course mates and set mates. My friend and I are in charge of our set. Everything was going well.

May 10, 2023: My old course rep sends a voice note on informing me that Funmi (Electrical and Electronics Engineering, Year 3) is running for the same ULES VP position, and she would hit me up to get my support and all. Isn’t this great?

May 21, 2023: Funmi finally texts me 11 days after I was recommended to her about aspiration and how she would need my support. Obviously, I’m not trying to look like an unreliable person, so I tell her straight up that I’ve already given Yemi my word and that I was doing a first come first serve thing and how I didn’t give much thought to it (I am never taking that approach to giving my support again).

Funmi won’t not try to sway me her way, we’re in the same department and so she needs her department behind her, which is understandable but at that point my mind was made up and I wasn’t going to switch after working with Yemi for 7 weeks. I knew Funmi before the election period. I joined the ELD train because of her. Although I knew her from afar sha, the koko is I knew her. If I had known she was going to be in the race for any position, I wouldn’t have given my word to any other person. I was really hoping she would forget to text me so I wouldn’t have to tell her no but that didn’t happen. She played the department card, even my course reps and others in the department did but I was going to be a man of my word for this election.

The entire thing kept on getting worse because more people got involved and obviously things like this get messy and someone somewhere was cooking up rumours that I was running some sort of smear campaign and that was really upsetting because I did not do such, never said one bad thing about her and I actually like her. I already told her why I couldn’t support her, so I don’t know what that person’s issue was. Different people were talking to me and so I had to make it clear that I wasn’t running against Funmi, I was running for Yemi. Sounds dumb but I’m just saying my goal wasn’t that Funmi must not win, the goal was for the person whose campaign team I was on to win.

I had to begin to consider my own future aspirations and which decision would work better for me. At this point I felt like a politician. I’m more likely to run within the department before jumping into ULES. So how would supporting Yemi or Funmi affect me? If I chose to side with Funmi and sly Yemi, it would make sense because Yemi would be in her final year while I’m gunning for a position within my department in which Yemi has no influence whatsoever. But if I decided to go on with Yemi, it meant actively campaigning for another department against my own department and this could actually affect my aspirations for the next elections because if Funmi’s people decide to bring up my “departmental treason”, I might not get votes from that class. If I jumped straight into ULES, I could try to get votes from other departments but that’s just not the plan. It’s SEES then ULES. So switching sides to Funmi seems the better option politically.

At the end of the day, I stuck with Yemi and she won by about 150 votes or something. More than my pull, so no one could blame me for that loss. It was a relief.

EEG 226

Every other course with the feeling of underperforming, I blame myself but regarding this course I do not blame myself one bit. I tried my absolute best but the course did not get better with time. It actually got worse. I failed both tests, scored 2.5/20. I don’t know how many marks the exam will be. I don’t know if our essay will be considered, but it’s just looking terrible at this point. I don’t even see myself getting a B, it is that bad. Even trying to follow his YouTube videos was so difficult, it made no sense and even with all the cramming experience from before, I can’t cram every single thing. The exam wasn’t the remontada exam I hoped for. And the lecturer did not help one bit. I’m even tired but it didn’t feel good to study throughout a semester and be lost through all of it.

The takeaway from all of this is that you have to start your semester well (which I kind of did) but when the challenges come, it is important to handle them properly to get the best of out your semester. I didn’t and now I have to wait and see how it turns out. We don’t do anything to deserve God’s mercy, but He is merciful to us. I’ll be alright by the grace of God.

Before I end, I just want to mention that I attended the ULES Career Fair, I had only one class that day, CEG221 and so I had to skip it (I didn’t think it would hold because they said classes would end at 12pm). I guess the lecturer didn’t get the memo. So, the one class I skipped all semester the lecturer decided to give out bonus marks for attendance because the class was empty that day. Such amazing luck.

Goodbye and God bless :)