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lavandermin · 10 months

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Please share your professor Welt Yang thoughts, I've brought snacks for us!!! ☺️🍉🍫🧁🍙🍓

(I fear this will awaken something in me)

- 🍪

took 3-5 business days to arrange my thoughts since it was just feral babbling in my melted brain. But!!! We are ready now ☝️

suggestive toward the end, what can I say. I want to get in his professor pants sorry

Professor Welt Yang who is obviously the crush of quite a few university students, though I’d think he would be the oblivious type who just thinks of it as silly faculty gossip. His lectures are always very popular and at full capacity each semester.

Of course you aren’t immune to his serious yet gentle charm either. And while working on grad school you go to him for certain advice and pointers for your thesis. It becomes a more and more frequent thing, so much that you have his office hours memorized at this point.

Conversation is easy with him. And you’ll admit sometimes you go and start a random topic off with a broad question just to hear Welt talk in that deep voice of his. You could hear him talk for hours if he’d let you.

Of course this man is dense and dumb as rocks when it comes to even taking the hint that you are down so bad for him. Just have some patience with him.

You’ll catch him at the university’s cafe grabbing a quick lunch and coffee which turns into effortless conversation just to stay with him a little longer. At your one-on-ones you’ll even bring him a coffee when you stop by. Kind gesture or wiggling your way into his mind? You would never reveal.

There are little things here and there that you start to do that will leave you on his mind more often.

It’ll start with visits for advice on your material and projects. You are easy to get along with and even have some insightful commentary on the topics he speaks about.

Then come the complimentary coffees you bring— sometimes even some suggestions you bring to mix it up. He always enjoys them and thanks you for going out of your way to bring him the most delicate blends and flavors.

Then come the few invites to lunch. First at the university’s cafe to continue the conversations. After a few weeks you offer lunch at nearby places just outside campus. “It’ll make a nice change of scenery and the weather is lovely for a walk today, don’t you think, Professor Yang?” you’ll suggest oh so sweetly. And with that kind and genuine smile you give, how could he refuse? There are some subconscious thoughts that go through his mind wondering if you’re his favorite student. A strange one indeed given you took his lecture last semester and others a few years while you worked on your bachelor’s, but aren’t a student of his currently.

Your meetings during his office hours continue— a bit more scattered throughout the week and with more days in between. Welt starts to look forward to seeing you in his office, two coffees in hand. Lately he’s all you can think about. It becomes more of a frequent guilty pleasure as you show up in tight pencil skirts and button up blouses that reveal a lacy set underneath if his eyes linger too long. You apologize for constant formal attire, throwing in some excuse about recent project presentations and an internship you began. His eyes follow you when you move to leave his office, eyes glued to the way the pencil skirt hugs all your curves in ways that have him a little dazed with new thoughts.

You start showing up on Fridays and later than usual to his office, skirt length just a little higher sometimes and giving him a tease with how your stockings complement your plush thighs so well. You apologize deeply for catching him at the end of his office hours— and before the weekend, no less. The campus is mostly empty with majority of students having left and only a few faculty still around. Your professor, being the kind soul he is, of course tells you it’s always a pleasure to have you in his office. And your attire today certainly is… special.

“Apologies, professor, I have a dinner later with some friends and don’t have time to go home and change,” you explain as you head toward his desk in practiced motions. Your weekly routines. Welt shuts the door, assuring you it’s no issue.

But it is an issue. His heart hammers rapidly in his chest as his eyes take in your attire against their will. How could a simple black dress hug your body in such a sinful way? Or was it just his mind?

His heart is swaying and his feelings will go through some internal turmoil as he begins to realize that his feelings are something more.

Still, ever the professional, he takes a seat at his desk and offers you the one in front of him. Same routine. Just another meeting.

And you break routine. Or break him.

His eyes follow your every move and gesture as you begin explaining some issues you’ve had with your thesis edits and research. Being so close to him, he can catch the subtle scent of your perfume. A warm and subtle citrus.

You apologize briefly, telling him you have to leave soon but needed his advice to get some edits done over the weekend. No need to apologize of course. His eyes follow your every move as you apply some lipstick on while he looks over your file that you emailed over. His heart beats louder and there are some images that come forth in his mind that he has to will away. He has long succumbed to these… questionable thoughts. And that’s putting it lightly.

“Professor?”

Oh. He had been staring idly, not even realizing you were so close to him now. Damn, he hasn’t even looked over the file yet.

Your sultry voice still rings like blaring alarms in his brain. He clears his throat and says he will look the files over more thoroughly and send you an email so you’re not late to your dinner.

Your laugh is heavenly as you point to something on the screen of note on the file. Something he doesn’t even register as his eyes immediately fall to the way your chest is mere inches from his face as you bend near him. The revealing low cut of your dress leaves little to the imagination.

“Professor Yang.” Your voice is just above a whisper, pulling his attention once more.

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you?” you ask simply, hand on his shoulder making the skin under his dress shirt feel like it’s on fire.

Heat spreads to his entire body, mind blank. His eyes dart to your lips and linger there as he gulps. Hard.

With a chuckle, you lean down to press a kiss to his neck. An action he feels has an effect on him ten times more severe than if you were to kiss his cheek. It’s deliberate. It’s planned. And he wants more.

You tilt his chin up with a delicate hand. Welt is at your mercy, not making any indication of wanting these advances to stop. His eyes are on your lips again as you lean closer, and tilt your head with a sly smile.

“Seems this lipstick really is smudge-proof,” you say, examining the area where you placed your lips. Your eyes go back to his and suddenly his breath hitches in anticipation. “Professor.”

Welt shudders at the way the word rolls of your tongue. There’s jolts of electricity that run through his spine and spread through him in an addictive rush just from your voice. You have him inevitably wrapped around your finger.

“Again,” Welt says with a clear of his throat.

You climb onto his lap, checking his expression in case there was any indication he didn’t want your advances. The hardness painfully confined in his slacks says otherwise.

And you indulge him with a kiss on the lips. One you smile into as he goes in for another like a man starved. Welts rough hands grab at your soft thighs, pulling you closer against him. It’s like he can’t stop now that he’s started. He pushes the thought of someone walking into his office and being discovered engaging in these scandalous activities with a former student far back in his mind, like a fleeting thought he can’t be bothered to think of. Not right now, not when you’re mischievously tugging at his belt buckle. The serious gentleman everyone knows is quickly dissolving before you.

Several months of pleasantries and exchanges and patience finally leading up to exactly what you wanted. You can’t help but grin against his lips for your little victory.

#are we a home wrecker? who knows #welt yang x reader #I’m never letting this dilf go #ask stuff 💌#mii writes #🍪 anon #cw suggestive #hsr fanfic #cw age gap #bc he wouldn’t be a dilf otherwise

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miicycle · 2 years

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How Do I Hate You? Let Me Count The Ways

FIRST CHAPTER IS OUT!

You want some Donnie angst? Some massive pain? Some slow build up to a big part that inspired the entire thing? I love Leo and Donnie, they're my little scrimblos and thats why im making both of them suffer the most and a family is left in pain assuming their brother and son is-

read it cowards /lh

Anyways suffer. This is the first fic I've ever made, beta'd by @shyartz03

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heliojip · 1 month

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modern danbert au: dan is tired of herbert making fucked up creatures and assumes it was because herbert was bored so he gets him a DS and herbert doesn't play any of the games he just makes fucked up mii characters. he thinks hes soooooo funny. herbert will be giggling to himself for twenty minutes and then say "look daniel!" and dan's like "oh? having fun with mario there?" and he'll turn the DS around and it'll just show a really tiny or tall mii with random face accessories and very huge or small eyes named "herbjdjsbdbdja"

dan's just thankful he's no longer putting body parts together....

#i woke up after trying to sleep to write this #im projecting my childhood onto herbert bc i would do exactly this and think it was the peak of comedy lol #id literally spend hours with the neighborhood kids and my sobling making fucked up miis.....#my friend made a fucked up mii on my tonodachi life so... full circle #herbert west #dan cain #daniel cain #reanimator #danbert #re-animator #re animator #bride of reanimator #heliojabs

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raymoo-hakery · 5 months

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the year is 2060. you live in america. the entire west coast is a nuclear wasteland. nyc has sunk into the ocean, along with the entirety of florida. it is illegal to not look like a person in an "ideal family" drawing from the 60s and all racial minorities live in reservation camps. gay people are shot by cops on sight.

you are walking back from the grocery store on an open road with no sidewalks. you have 16 miles to go until you're home. suddenly, your 3ds lights up. it's green. you open up your old, cracked 3ds, and go to your mii plaza. suddenly, you see it. him. you remember. you remember the 2010s. you remember middle school. you remember using the internet and making seemingly lifelong connections before it all went entirely offline and you lost any connection to any of them. you start to cry. not from sadness or despair that things will never be the same. but from happiness, that someone from that grocery store still remembers. someone still remembers lonk from pennsylvania.

#the legend of zelda #lonk #lonk from pennsylvania #nintendo #miis #3ds #streetpass #writing

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akkivee · 2 months

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maybe if we ask nintendo very nicely—

#this is vee speaking #the arb chronicles #if we can get sans undertale as a mii skin we can get yamada ichiro i think LOL #ichiro is one of the handful of hypmic characters able to fold a btch COME ON #let invisible manners write a smash bros rap it’ll be fire lmao #arb on switch really is insane tho how did they think of it and how did they get it to happen lmao

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canyouhearthelight · 1 year

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The Miys, Epilogue

Yep. You read that right - this is it. At least for now.... I made the decision to end the journey when the journey actually stopped. Including the fact that it stopped very abruptly.

Do not skip: Content/Trigger Warning for gore, blood, and injuries at the beginning of this chapter. There is a line of three asterisks (***) to denote where that ends. I am not kidding, I had to revoke a beta-reader’s access to the master doc until I wrote the rest, out of concern.

I cannot thank everyone enough for this wild, wild ride: @baelpenrose for all your moral and written support (and for the part of this chapter I just had to warn about!), @charlylimph-blog for being my third sister essentially, @drbibliophile, @quantumized-insanity, @werewolf2578, @lavcircuts, @janeshadow, @generalperfectionbread, @mustachebatschaos, @dierotenixe, @1978sah, and anyone else I may have missed. Thank you!

I came to, gasping. Smoke filled my nostrils, and my eyes refused to see. Panic filled me and I reached for my face even as I shouted hoarsely for my family. Only one hand would obey me, but it was enough to feel the sticky texture of blood glueing my eyes shut.

I worked to open my eyes, still shouting and straining my ears for anything. Finally, I could open my eyes and sweep the ruins of the bridge.

Maverick’s face lay in ruins, blood dripping down both sides, his chest caved in by the impact as he slumped over the controls that had smashed in his ribs. Beside him, my sister, teeth clenched in defiance, horrifyingly small in the death that had actually claimed her. I looked around, my muscles screaming as I clawed, frantically, at my restraints.

Scrambling out from under the table did not reveal anything better. Arthur had apparently managed to free himself shortly before I’d woken, but he had succumbed to his wounds trying to get to our pilots, and I could see the blood around his mouth, the way the impact had destroyed…

Charly…oh gods, Charly was. Charly’s face. Her spine was…it was wracked, twistingly broken, and she’d obviously died before waking. I tried to crawl towards where Grey had been strapped in, or Hunyh, but…my legs weren’t…

I screamed, coughing up more blood, trying to…

Some of the ship’s damaged hull screamed for me. Some of it crumbled, and I saw two more of my colleague’s mangled bodies come into view as their seats twisted around beneath the already ruined deck. That was Eino…I couldn’t even recognize the other’s face beneath the mask of blood, but based on the build, maybe, maybe Hunyh?

Parvati…

Xiomara had died next to Parvati, and seeing the way Parvati had gone was probably the bitterest. Her last act had been to scrawl on the walls something, some little symbol I wished I could recognize, above where she and Xiomara lay.

I couldn’t see Pranav and Alice, but there was…it was quiet, and my vision was starting to tunnel. I tried screaming one more time, found myself coughing, choking on the blood from where my throat had torn. Convulsions wracked my body, pain surging from limbs that were broken -

***

“Sophia!” a voice shouted. “Sophia!”

I woke, gasping for air like I had been drowning. The pain was a phantom sensation, and I started sobbing when I saw the person shaking me.

Maverick, eyes wide, hands firm but gentle on my shoulders, slumped in relief. “It was a nightmare, love. You were screaming.”

The tension left my body and I rested my forehead on his perfectly intact chest, feeling his hear beating strongly against my cheek. “I thought they had gone,” I admitted. “I haven’t had one in years.”

“It’s okay,” he assured me, pulling me onto his lap. “We’re okay. We’re here, we made it.”

“Conor isn’t here.” Damn the tears and the sniff that betrayed me.

Mav squeezed me tighter. “Love, he’s staying with the children, you know that. It’s just for a month, then he’ll be back. They turn five soon - “

“I know,” I sulked. “Then they can come stay with us when it’s his time to keep them.”

“And he can stay here,” Maverick finished. “You fully supported the proposal when Hannah and Antoine came to you about it.”

I rubbed my forehead and mentally cursed myself. “How was I supposed to know that Conor would be one of the first fathers?”

“Two more weeks, then he’s back for a month,” Maverick repeated. “And it’s not like we never see him around or have meals with him.”

Didn’t make me any happier about the situation, but he was right. Despite what could charitably be called a rough start, the colony had been very stable after the first five years. The Council - at the time in a state of peaceful transition while roles were voted on and handed off - had agreed to slowly start allowing children, but with one caveat. Due to the need for genetic diversity, and to provide stability, they would live in their own quarters, later to be shared with their siblings, and their parents would come to them until they started school. Once school started, all parents were required to live as close as possible to where education would take place, and the children essentially lived with both families as they saw fit.

In theory. Conor’s twin girls were some of the colony’s eldest children, and fortunately we got along very well with their mother and her wife, who lived nearby anyway. Even officially retired, a part of me was holding my breath to see how the parents who had to relocate handled things.

“Those girls had better be glad they’re cute,” I grumbled, snuggling in to try to get some more sleep before my shift started.

Several restless hours of dozing later, I felt my jaw pop as I yawned my way into the still-rebuilding Archives. A precious cup of high octane tea in one hand, a bundle of thick paper in the other, I found my alcove and moved the light closer. Great, more medical papers, I sighed to myself. Having good penmanship had its ups and downs, the current ‘down’ being that I mostly got stuck transcribing essential documents that were less interesting than watching moss grow.

There hadn’t been time to commit all of the Archives to crystal, and on a planet with humidity both above and below ground, there were entirely too many documents that would be lost to the environment without transcription. The paper we were using was made from the fibers of the stonevine - the vine Teeth had brought to our attention for how hard its sap cured once boiled. It had taken several attempts, but the resulting paper was incredibly waterproof and actually required the letters to be etched into it to take any sort of pigment. However, once anything was written on it, there was no way to destroy the document short of grinding it into a new pulp.

Unfortunately, that meant anyone copying the documents needed a very steady hand and impeccably legible handwriting, because you only got one shot at it. Everything was in the database, but those last several months of Eko-mari interference had reinforced the need for hard copies of everything. And so, my retirement from the Council had led to six shifts per week transcribing very important and very boring documents.

A harsh swear hissed in my direction, snapping my head up in confusion. I barely had time to make out a head of wild brown hair attached to a young adult with an odd gait, practically dragging a toddler behind her. “Teeth…” I ventured hesitantly.

They froze in their tracks, and the little boy squealed before running over to me on stubby legs. Slowly, Teeth turned to face me, nose wrinkled in embarrassment. “Hi, Aunt Sophia.”

“PHEE!” the little boy screeched, climbing into my lap while I deftly moved the etching pen out of his sticky reach. “Sibby was noddy,” he assured me in the special loud whisper only managed by small children and drunks.

“I figured bud,” I muttered before turning my attention back. “I can’t imagine that the child of two queens is here on community service, not to mention that Siu writes better than you do.” I nodded to the boy who I was trying to keep the old papers away from. “What’s up?”

Surrendering, they came to sit across from me, gently taking the papers from my hand before their little brother could. “I was scaling the Vault - “

“Which you know you aren’t supposed to do,” I added.

“Which I have been told is dangerous,” they corrected. “And Siu saw me.”

I bit my tongue but scanned him for injuries. Scraped knees, but that was about as normal to him as breathing. Kid was a klutz, bless him.

When I nodded, Teeth kept going. “I thought he was with Queen Mum, but he was with his daycare class, on a field trip, and… The kids tried to imitate me.”

“Since you aren’t, you know, dead, I’m assuming the adults stopped anything tragic.”

“Miss Mona said we couldn’t climb,” Siu pouted at me.

“And they all started crying,” Teeth finished in a huff. “Busted by thirty six kids and four adults. All of my parents knew within an hour.”

I whirled a finger around to indicate the Archives, before swooping it in to boop my nephew’s cheek. “Doesn’t explain why you’re here.”

“Penmanship practice,” they groaned, dropping their head on their organic arm in a huff. “With an etching pen and everything.”

I thought about it for a second. “Simon’s idea?”

“Who else?” they despaired. Being twenty five may have given Teeth more experience, but it had also solidified them into a very expressive person that borderlined on teenage dramatics when it mattered the least.

I sighed. “Okay. You can practice here, but go get a glass slate and some markers for Siu. Otherwise he’ll get bored.”

“It’s only for a couple hours,” they swore, attitude suddenly changing. “Mom will be here on her lunch to come get him.” Springing to their feet, they took off to request one of the panes we used to conserve paper when people were first learning new alphabets.

“Swindled,” I told Siu very seriously. “Your sibling has swindled me again.”

“Fucking duh,” he giggled cheerfully.

Gaping for a second, I ground my teeth before shouting. “TEETH!”

Three hours and some exasperated promises from Charly - who was admirably keeping her laughter at bay - Siu was shrieking with laughter at the promise of swimming lessons with Mummy, and Teeth was working on a glass slate to replicate my cursive writing.

“This is so small,” they complained. “How do you do this?”

“Same way you are,” I answered without looking up. Hematology extracts for the win - I could barely spell half of these words. “Practice.”

“You could have written it bigger.”

“I did.” Demonstrating, I took a scrap of stonevine paper, etched a few words in it, washed in the ink, then turned it towards them. “See?” The only person I knew who naturally wrote smaller than me was Tyche - the largest letter on my paper was a quarter of an inch. Most were right at an eighth.

“Bitching has been retracted.”

“Besides, cheer up,” I continued. “I just heard today that Xale and Brol are coming to visit soon. Siu’s never met Xale, has he?”

The felt pen squeaked loudly as Teeth’s arm jerked. “How did you hear this before me?” they demanded.

“Xale wanted it to be a surprise,” I assured. “But you seem like you could use the good news. They should be here in time for his birthday.”

They paused mid-wipe as they erased the streak. “Do you think his genetic parents will show up?” they asked quietly.

I shrugged, trying to look lighter than I felt. “They relinquished any custody of their material, neither felt confident that they could raise a child. As far as who Siu’s parents are, he’s your human brother, being co-raised by Charly and Nixe, just like you.”

They relaxed a fraction. “Then he should love his big sister as much as I do. Will Kelly and Mati be there?” Teeth loved their little brother, but loved their ‘cousins’ almost as much, and made a point to play with them, even when Conor wasn’t the custodial parent.

“Their moms are all for it,” I assured. “The girls are the only kids on their side right now, and no one wants them to feel left out.”

“Good,” they nodded firmly. “Family is important.”

“Preaching to the choir,” I pointed at myself. “You may be the only person I know who has a bigger family than I do.”

“The outer caverns are almost complete,” they threw out, changing topic. “Mom is excited, because one of the caverns is going to be a new park.”

“Botanical lab,” I corrected. “Technically.”

“Interactive lab, which is the same thing as a park,” Teeth rebutted. “And you promised.”

“I don’t have any say, I told you that.”

“But you promised me you would at least talk to them…”

“I know, but are you sure? Siu’s already - “

“Aunt Sophia, you promised,” they pressed. “Mom and Mum will listen to you, especially when Simon already agrees with us…”

“Have you even one hundred percent decided - “

“Poodle collie mix,” they bounced triumphantly, knowing they’d won. “They shed less, they are incredibly smart, and they are gentle, so Siu and his kitten will be fine.”

I rubbed my forehead in mock frustration, secretly very proud of how far they had thought this through. “I can’t even argue about responsibility. I’ve seen you with the kids, recent blunder included.”

“Look, I - wait, what?”

I set my etching pen down and started counting off on my fingers, getting a small laugh out of them. “You made a point to do it when you thought you wouldn’t be seen, but especially when you thought Siu wouldn’t see you. No one got hurt, so you clearly came right down before any of the kids could actually try. And you brought Siu with you today, to make sure you knew where he was and that he wasn’t trying to climb a rock wall.” I turned my glance to them. “Plus, you were very adamant that when Xale gets their kitten, Siu gets one, too, because he misses Mac.” Poor guy had barely survived the crash - excuse me, ‘high velocity landing’ - but even then, old age caught up a couple years later.

“You know, you could still get a kitten, too,” Teeth pointed out gently.

I scoffed, this time actually indignant. “I am a firm believer in the Kitten Distribution System, I will have you know. When I am meant to have a cat, one will manifest.”

“You do know that animal breeding is strictly controlled?”

“Cared exactly zero cats, ever. You’ll see.”

For the next several hours, we made at least an effort to focus on Teeth’s penmanship and my transcription. I managed to copy several pages, but despaired that Teeth was a lost cause as far as cursive went. Which, fair - as long as they could print legibly, I could honestly have cared less.

When my shift was over, I let Teeth know that they were freed to their own recognizance and let my mind wander as I navigated the cavern system. Several times, I had to dodge fuzzy yellow balls darting past - Else still largely navigated by bumping off of things, despite being large enough to leave a pretty sizable bruise - only to later stand aside so that Noah’s much smaller avatars could trundle after them. I was still adapting to the hive-minded mushrooms being four feet tall instead of twelve, and always chuckled when I saw one chasing behind Else.

Eventually, children would be running through the caves in the same way. Every day, more and more of Charly’s bio-lights were mounted rather than hurriedly attached - constant signs of expansion as we recovered and spread out. Gardens were tucked in every possible nook and cranny, especially those with small thermal pools. More than a few had been built out with seating that used stone from smoothed out or expanded areas, repurposed.

It took all of my restraint to keep from turning into a communal food nook, the smell of chilies practically dragging me in. The heavily vegetarian group of cooks had quickly found and claimed the space, which was too warm for habitation due to the springs that ran behind the walls - making it perfect for cooking.

Dinner with Maverick and Evan, I reminded myself. The newly installed Councillor for Health and Safety had been very attached to Mav since the final hours of our journey. For a time, Conor and I had been slightly concerned and very much amused, but Evan had made it abundantly clear that she preferred zero romantic or physical attachments - she basically considered Maverick a very intelligent pet, and he thought that was hilarious.

I reached my favorite point of my walk and paused to enjoy it: one of the narrow passages had collapsed slightly on one side, leaving an overlook to our main hub. The Vault, we called it. There was no part of the day when people weren’t crossing through it, often stopping to speak to each other. Streams of both hot and cold water flowed in channels across the floor, small decorative bridges arching over them at the wider points for safety. Horticulturists hovered between the relatively new plant installations, which had already made the air sweet in their scant three years of growth.

I closed my eyes and inhaled the steam, feeling my heart slow and calm as it always did. Terrible events had brought us here, refugees from our birth planet. But we had survived the trip, across a distance we had never thought possible, and were carving out a home as carefully as possible. And one day, if we ever saw the journey home, nothing would remain behind us except the stone works - the plants needed constant maintenance, a decision we had made to avoid introducing invasive species.

We had a second chance, and we promised we would do right by it. As I did daily, I quietly said a prayer to myself that those who had survived on Earth - something Teeth was evident of - would make the same decision. Done, I smiled gently and headed home.

<<Prev Masterlist

#the miys #found family #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space fae #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #solarpunk #hfy #haw #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing #my writing

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illusion-reality-steve · 2 months

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Shadow Sabre has personally attacked me with his impeccable timing.

He said, "You continue to go to these locations expecting a different outcome and yet it doesn't seem they change," while I was in the middle of reading Nintendo news to find any hints of a Tomodachi Life Switch port.

*offended sputtering*

Shut up, Shadow Sabre. I know you're right, but shut up.

Episode link

#don't you get it Sabre? Tomodachi Life isn't coming back and will fall into irrelevancy.#yes keep saying that Miitopia is popular on the Switch...for now.#but if you keep searching for a future that has Tomodachi Life on the Switch...all you will find is nothing.#Nintendo doesn't care about the Miis. Just look at Nintendo Switch Sports. They put the Sportsmates on the cover. Not the Miis.#if you want the Miis by your side again you have to take matters into your own hands.#you have the emulator downloaded Sabre. it's in your hands. stop depending on Nintendo to provide a legal way to enjoy old games.#use the emulator and watch as Nintendo fears and resents your power. IT'S THE ONLY WAY.#rainbow quest #shadow sabre #rq!shadow sabre #reactions #tomodachi life #humor #memes #my writing #(i'm proud of the tags so I'm tagging this as writing. ok?)

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another-blog-about-miis · 28 days

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I'm not good at writing suspense / horror

Is this too edgy or stupid?

This is also a teaser for a new story I'm making on wattpad :3

Heres the book with my cringe WDY fics btw:

#wii deleted you #wdy #wii deleted you sam #wdy sam #wii deleted you eteled #wii deleted you corrupted mii #wii deleted you austin #fanfic #writing #fan fiction #wii deleted you au #wattpad #wattpad writer

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lavandermin · 7 months

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busy. try again later | welt yang

pairing | welt yang x reader

wc | 2.6k

genre | fluff, implied secret relationships, lighthearted banter

warnings | suggestive but nothing explicit, pregnancy, written following the pov of Stelle around the express, welt is railing your stars on the down low

Idleness. Boredom. It left Stelle a little fidgety when there was a slight break from major tasks. The Astral Express was currently stationed near Jarilo VI for a quick visit. No major missions were queued up and if she counted all the visible stars outside the window of the main parlor car for the 44th time she would surely lose her mind.

‘I should go check with the others. Maybe there’s something I can do… or risk losing my mind like this.’ Stelle hops off the parlor car seat and heads toward the passenger cabin.

A soft knock to the first door. No answer.

“This is technically a public room on the Express. You don’t have to knock every time you stop by,” Dan Heng responds flatly without looking up from a few open books on the table.

“It's still your room,” Stelle counters with a shrug, eyes skimming the room curiously.

Dan Heng lets out a quiet sigh that ends in a chuckle. He turns to look at her fully, arms crossed over his chest. “Something on your mind?”

“Just checking in. Need any help?”

“No, I’m busy but it would take longer to explain than the task would take. Try March. She wanted to head into Belobog to restock on some supplies while we’re still here.”

With a nod Stelle turns to head out of the data bank. Dan Heng watches the door slide shut, letting out a quiet exhale before getting back to the various books he has to sort through for information.

Oddly enough, Stelle finds Himeko standing just outside March’s door speaking to the newest Astral Express member. They don’t seem to pay Stelle any mind as she walks over.

“Are you sure? It would make a lovely walk,” Himeko offers. You shake your head and offer an apologetic smile.

“No, no, I’ll be okay. I’m pretty busy today with some… errands,” you reason, hands tugging and fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “I’ll go next time.”

Himeko relents and sends you on your way. You quickly disappear down the hall toward the passenger car over where your room is. “Stelle, would you like to join March and myself on a quick trip to Belobog?”

She nods with a small smile. “If you’re not heading out too soon I’ll join you.” There were still a few others Stelle wanted to check in with just in case. You said you had some errands to do today so maybe Stelle could help.

Understanding her current little task, Himeko assures Stelle that they’ll be heading out in about an hour so there’s not much of a rush. March has been known to take a little longer than most at getting ready if it’s just a casual outing. The soft music and humming coming from her door gave way to the fact that Himeko had been waiting for longer than originally planned. She stays for some idle chatter to help Himeko kill some time as she waits before continuing down the rooms.

The door all the way at the end of the hall— Welt Yang’s room. Stelle gives a firm few knocks.

Silence.

She tries the door but, as always, it oddly doesn’t even budge an inch. He might be elsewhere on the train or engrossed in a new book so much he didn’t hear her knock. Well, it’s not like he usually needs help. More often than not Welt is the one offering help to those that approach him. Best to leave it at that for now. There was an attempt at least and that sat okay with her conscience.

Onto the cart over, your room is the only one in use save for the guest room just next to yours that will occasionally house a visitor. Stelle approaches and knocks.

There’s muffled shuffling on the other side and a hasty, ‘Just a minute!’ The hand that was reaching for the door handle pauses and instead Stelle waits patiently for you to answer.

The door slides open just enough for your breathless face to come into view. “Sorry I was, uhm, reorganizing my room a bit. It’s a mess,” you chuckle apologetically.

Stelle quirks a brow at your slightly disheveled appearance when you step outside into the hall and shut the door behind you softly.

“If you’re moving furniture I can help. Don’t hurt yourself,” Stelle offers with a kind smile. As much as you appreciate the offer you quickly shake your head.

“No, no, I’m fine. Almost done putting stuff away. Thank you for the offer anyway. If you’re looking for something to do, Pom-Pom might need help now that I think about it.” You quickly divert the conversation. “He was looking a little troubled the past couple of days.”

That being said, the conductor always has something troubling them. Pom-Pom was a busy bee every day keeping the Express in top condition and takes pride in doing so. Still, it didn’t hurt to check on him before heading out with Himeko and March.

You wave your brief thank you and goodbye, a polite yet nervous smile on your expression. Stelle subconsciously makes note of the way you don’t head back into your room until she leaves. Everyone on this train has secrets and with you being the newest member of a few months, she couldn’t fault you for being a little more reserved as you got adjusted.

And just as you said, Stelle comes across the train’s conductor who is uneasily sweeping around the parlor car to keep busy. Even the slight tap of the conductor's hat to get their attention makes him yelp before realizing it’s just Stelle and not whatever terrifying end Pom-Pom thought was finally catching up to him.

“Stelle…” Pom-Pom clearly looks uneasy and distressed.

“Something on your mind?” Stelle asks.

Pom-Pom glances around, looks behind some chairs, under a table, and hobbles back over to Stelle. The little conductor’s face scrunches in thought.

“Lately, Pom-Pom can’t help but feel that there’s something that changed on the Express. Like there’s another faint presence at times.” A look of fear crosses his face and Pom-Pom gulps down a few stray scary thoughts. “Stelle, do you think a ghost could have followed you onboard in your travels?”

She looks around. One end of the cabin is empty save for Dan Heng who heads out of the Express alone. The other end is just as desolate— not a single movement.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Stelle notes. “Are you sure it was a presence you felt? Have you been sleeping well?”

The conductor stomps his little foot down angrily. “H-Hey! Pom-Pom knows what he felt! Sleep is not the issue,” the little rabbit argues with a huff. “But, please go take a look around the Express and make sure a stray animal or something didn’t get on board accidentally.”

It really was strange if what Pom-Pom is saying is true. Generally, Stelle is quick to pick up on something amiss but nothing has seemed out of the ordinary lately. Still, to give Pom-Pom the ease of mind she takes another more thorough look around the parlor car. Nothing under the seats, hands swatted away from Pom-Pom’s plant, not a sound or sight out of place.

Stelle turns to the conductor who has started trailing behind with concerned eyes that shift around the room. “Pom-Pom, do you feel this presence right now?”

He takes a moment and scans the room, then shakes his head. “Well, no… But what if it’s hiding? Waiting for an opportunity to eat a tasty conductor?”

“Like a giant space rat?” Stelle quips with a laugh.

Pom-Pom lets out a whimper. “Hey! Stop trying to scare Pom-Pom!”

She puts up her hands defensively with a chuckle. “Alright, if you don’t sense it here maybe we should look around the other cars to figure it out,” Stelle suggests.

Though uneasy, Pom-Pom agrees. “Okay, but if something attacks it’s your job to protect and save Pom-Pom!”

Stelle agrees if only to calm down the fidgety conductor.

In the first passenger cart Himeko and March are now chatting among themselves about their plan for the outing. Nothing out of the ordinary so far. Stelle takes another look around with Pom-Pom in tow.

“Any presence here?”

The little rabbit shakes his head. “N-No… But Pom-Pom swears it’s somewhere!”

“Did you lose a button again, Pom-Pom?” March asks curiously as the two look around the cart.

Stelle shakes her head, quickly explaining the situation to save the conductor some stress. At this point he’s practically glued to Stelle’s leg, eyes shifting to and fro.

March forces out a shaky laugh that only gives way to her nerves. “Oh, haha… A space rat wouldn’t be on the Express… I hope.”

And maybe everything at once was a little too much for the little conductor. So much that he momentarily snaps. Which isn’t too extreme given Pom-Pom’s stature. “Stop, stop! Pom-Pom did not sense a space rat!”

It’s lighthearted banter at best between March and Pom-Pom. Just enough to at least alleviate some tension from this little unsolved train mystery. Stelle is in the middle of brainstorming any other possible reasons when the other passenger car door opens down the hall.

Your head peeks out to assess the situation, clearly on alert due to the loud bickering. As soon as you see the group down the hall you let out a little sigh of relief and head over.

“What’s all the commotion?” you ask Himeko.

She offers a shrug and a hand gesture that indicates it’s nothing too big of a deal. And it would seem that way, that is until Pom-Pom lets out a shriek.

“Th-There it is!” he yells, jumping behind March and Stelle. “The presence came in with Y/n!”

All eyes are on you and you’re hopelessly teetering between confused and dreading the next moments.

“The presence came in with Y/n,” Himeko muses calmly. She lets out a sly little chuckle, one that knows too much while keeping a perfect poker face. “Pom-Pom, do you think perhaps the presence is with Y/n?”

The conductor finally peeks from where he hides, uncovering his eyes. “O-Oh. Pom-Pom didn’t think of that… Passenger Y/n,” the rabbit starts as he cautiously waddles over to you. “Please hold still.”

Oh no.

Oh no. Oh no.

You don’t even get a word in. The tiny robot that Pom-Pom uses is quicker than you can register as it gives a brief scan of your form. The conductor is silent as his eyes quickly scan the data displayed on its tiny screen. The little gasp he lets out only further forms a cold sweat down your neck.

“Passenger Y/n… you’re carrying a tiny being,” Pom-Pom finally announces with a look of awe and confusion.

“Please don’t call it that,” you interject with a nervous laugh. “It’s just a baby Pom-Pom.”

March is the first to snap out of the momentary shock, her jaw dropped. “What?! You’re pregnant?! A baby?! Since when?!”

“Calculated to be an approximate nine or ten weeks of development so far,” Pom-Pom clarifies, eyes glued to the data.

“And there you have it,” Himeko concludes. “Our little mystery is solved for the presence Pom-Pom felt. I’d say that’s excellent teamwork as always from our Astral Express family.”

And it seems to be a satisfying enough conclusion for Pom-Pom thankfully.

“Well if there’s no real danger to the Express, Pom-Pom will be leaving. There’s much to do!” And with that the little conductor scurries off to the main parlor car.

The passenger car door shuts and March is immediately an explosive flurry of questions. Her insatiable curiosity leaves her speaking faster than she can really stop to properly think through. She’s next to you in less than a second, her hand gently on your stomach as she looks from your barely-noticeable bump to your uneasy expression. The questions are nonstop and practically all in one breath, one after another.

Did you know? When did you find out? Are you dizzy? Eating enough? Any pain? Have you contacted Natasha yet for a checkup? Any names? There’s an audible gasp as March pauses with a new train of thought, or maybe to take in air after the barrage of questions.

“Who’s the father? Don’t tell me it’s someone on the Express,” she interrogates further. Your nervous smile and avoidance of eye-contact is all the body language she needs to confirm her suspicion.

You push her away gently, suddenly feeling a little overwhelmed by all the questions. “March, p-please. You don’t have to worr–“

Amidst the chaos of the new shocking revelation, Dan Heng returns from his unannounced outing. March is quick to snap her gaze at him. It only takes a split second for her to put two and two together in her mind.

“Dan Heng… you jerk!” March lunges at him, shaking his shoulders wildly. “Not using protection?! Are you serious right now?! Are you even supporting her at such a crucial point in her life?! You better not run off and ditch her because I’ll find you and drag you back frozen if I have to!”

It’s comedic, despite the chaos, how expressionless but uncomfortable Dan Heng looks right now. He just lets March give him an earful before prying her hands off of him.

“March. I have no idea what you’re talking about. I just got back,” he explains calmly.

The tears of passion and frustration are brimming on March’s eyes. You can only watch the scene unfold with mild unease, a hand protectively on your belly.

March huffs with a pout, hands on her hips. “Y/n is around nine weeks pregnant and you are hardly any help.”

“Wait, March—“ You try to stop her, face warm with embarrassment, but she’s too caught up in her passionate berating to listen.

March and Dan Heng are bickering back and forth without end when the door to the second passenger car opens soundlessly.

“It’s not me. And it’s not my problem if you don’t believe me.”

March lets out an exasperated groan. “If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t that many guys on the Express. I just don’t see how–“

“Is there trouble?” Welt interrupts as he comes up behind you and Himeko. He looks to the latter for explanation but she can only let out an amused chuckle. The knowing glint in her eye has you swallowing a whimper.

“March,” you start, face growing warmer by the second as you try to stop her to no avail. But everyone notices it— the way your body instinctively turns toward Welt.

March halts, voice growing smaller by the second as the words come out. “If it’s not… Dan Heng…”

Everyone watches as March reassesses her thoughts in real time now that Welt is there. Slowly the truth unfolds and you watch as her eyes grow wider by the second, jaw dropped.

“Mr. Yang?!”

The older man seems taken aback by her sudden exclamation. He looks to you for further explanation but you’re too flustered to speak. Your silence and averted gaze only further confirms March’s new theory that you two were sleeping together… and for quite some time now.

“Will someone care to explain what’s going on?” Welt asks with a sigh and pinch to the bridge of his nose.

There’s a chuckle that comes from beside him as Himeko interjects. “It seems our crew just found out about the result of your many little… escapades. But,” she continues, “We’re all adults here. Everyone’s private matters are to be respected. And we will all receive the future little addition to the Astral Express Family warmly.” She shoots a meaningful look at March, Stelle and Dan Heng.

They all nod solemnly.

“Oh,” Stelle begins with a look of realization. “So that’s what you two were doing when I stopped by her room.”

#welt yang x reader #mii writes #cw suggestive #cw pregnancy #fluff #need welt to rail my stars too

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miicycle · 1 year

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New chapter of "How Do I Hate You? Let Me Count The Ways." dropped

https://archiveofourown.org/works/42285027/chapters/107058186

Chapter 2: The Truth Could Kill A Man

Summary:

Donnie seeks answers from an unlikely individual and misunderstandings ensue.

:)c

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #mii talks #mii writes #HDIHY #rottmnt hdihy #Rottmnt how do i hate you #rottmnt fanfic #rise of the tmnt fanfiction #new chapter #fanfic chapter update #chapter update #heehee #angst #rise donatello #rise donnie

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onepunchknockout · 8 months

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when ur ship kids parents aren't actually ships

#cpu mii #mii #ship children #wii sports #wii sports resort #tomodachi life #miitomo #miiblr #fan kids #i could write some fics about this #cpu children

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kaemiya · 2 years

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i might write a part 2 for this ! so don't worry

#xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #xiao genshin impact #xiao genshin #genshin #genshin impact #genshin xiao #xiao angst #xiao x reader angst #genshin angst #miy writes

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bs-el · 1 month

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Please reblog for wider reach and sample size!

#writers #writing #writers on tumblr #writers of tumblr #poll #minimii #mini mii

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rilianeshairclip · 5 months

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(Slaps a headcanon onto you)

If you could invest in a filing cabinet for just Abby's lore, you would.

I'm not even gonna lie I would

#i also would have zero clue on how to write everything #abby's so pookie ngl #miiblr #mii #wii sports #cpu mii #wii abby #random idea #what if kanade and abby met

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canyouhearthelight · 1 month

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Chapter 18: Social Engineering

Lights, Camera, Action! Lash and Nils go public and dare people to call their bluff. The interview goes slightly off the rails, with good reason.

@baelpenrose, as co-author and beta reader for this chapter, did a great job making sure the reporters were as 'paparazzi' as possible.

I can fake a smile

I can force a laugh

I can dance and play the part

If that's what you ask

Give you all I am

Christina Perri, “Only Human”

Lash

By the time Lucas had returned to the hospital, Mori had pulled herself together and was in full combat general mode. Neither Nils nor I had clued her in to our plan regarding shaming the hospital into covering the cost of care for everyone involved in the fire, and I was grateful that he hadn’t mentioned it in front of her. With her focused on our parents’ care and haranguing doctors and nurses for updates, I could focus on dealing with the reporters who were already descending on the hospital.

Nils was hovering next to me, his hand close to mine. “Important to ask because a whole lot of people are going to ask unimportant shit and we need to be on the same page to avoid idiot drama that will deflect from our goal: we’re a couple or just good friends? It doesn’t matter what our answer is as long as it’s the same one.” He took a breath. “If you don’t have the emotional bandwidth for that, easy way out is ‘we stick to whatever bullshit they feed us until the cameras go away and something else dominates the news cycle’.”

I thought it about for a brief moment. “We’re going to be doing a lot of lying, let’s have one less to keep track of. Stick to the truth: we’re friends who recently went on our first date and you were meeting my parents when everything went down. If someone sticks a camera in my parents’ faces later down the road, they won’t have to think to confirm that.”

He nodded. “That works well enough. Okay, so to clarify our story: The hospital admins - someone even I, with all my familiarity with the hospital staff don’t know by sight - offered this to the people injured in this crisis as a one-time matter because they recognize the extraordinary circumstances involved. They recognize the crisis in the community and have risen to the occasion. We can say some nice things about the doctors that let them share the glory the local news is going to be throwing at us because hey, local news loves a hero. Hospital will be really reluctant to give it back if they can trade for political favors later.”

“Oh, I cannot wait to hear you say nice things about your father. On camera, where everyone can see it,” I teased, trying to bleed off some of my anxiety. Truth be told, any anonymity I had up until now was about to be blasted out the window when we spoke to these reporters. And I would have to use my real name, or my online persona was toast.

The thought immediately made my heart sink, tears prickling my eyes. Toast. The burned out cafe, all those lives wasted… and for what? Because some hateful asshole thought he had the right to -

I didn’t even realize I was speaking out loud until Nils bumped me with his shoulder. “Hey. I’m not going to tell you it’s okay, because it isn’t. But right now, we can honor the dead by taking care of the living. So let’s focus, okay? We can figure out whoever did this and get it back in blood later.” He offered me his hand. “For right now though, let’s go get some debts waived.”

He gave a very subtle gesture towards the window, where to my horror, I could already see news vans outside, prevented from accessing the building. Vultures. I took a deep breath, took his hand, and squeezed it. “We look like burn victims, right?” When he nodded, I nodded back. “Then let’s do this before someone stops us.”

The moment we stepped outside the door, hospital wristbands conspicuously visible, we were swarmed. I played up my shock by turning slightly into Nils, shielding my eyes. Four microphones were shoved in our faces, a female voice demanding “Were you at the fire earlier this evening?”

“Yes,” I answered. “We were inside with my parents when the fire was started.”

“Are you saying the fire was deliberate?” came a male voice from behind the blinding lights on the cameras.

“Absolutely. Someone blocked the exits and threw a burning bottle of something into the cafe.”

Nils took over at that point. “Molotov cocktails. The cafe had been the victim of several attempted arsons prior to this, according to the late owner, Ahmet Yildiz, who had, by the time this last fire claimed his life, given up on getting a proper investigation. He died attempting to help evacuate his customers and community.” His voice was clear, cold, and his words managed to bring across institutional neglect without actually blaming anyone of importance. “He wasn’t the only one.”

“We were lucky,” I choked out through a lump in my throat. “We have minor burns and some smoke inhalation, but right now my parents and many others are in surgery or the ICU. One is in the PICU.” As that last part sank in, some of the reporters and camera people around us gasped. “And we are all the lucky ones. At least three people never made it out, and we don’t know if everyone else is going to make it.”

A burst of chatter from the back of the reporters, then one of the men in the front asked a question I’d been dreading. “Can I get you two to identify yourselves?”

“My name is Elakshi Botelho. My parents, Sahar and Lorso Botelho, are still undergoing tests and treatment.”

“And mine is Nils Andover. My father is one of the doctors in the hospital, and my mother works as a lawyer.”

“We’ve heard both of your names from other witnesses at the scene, several of whom credit the two of you with a bulk of the rescues, what exactly happened during the evacuation?” Nils’ eyes flicked towards me.

I gave the tiniest of nods and took a deep breath. “The only exit was on fire. Nils was able to open one of the metal gates over the other exits. He, my father, and Uncle - Mr. Yildiz helped carry people out while my mother and I wrapped everyone in whatever cloths we could wet to keep them from getting burned or inhaling smoke. Nils and my father managed to get me and my mother out just before the cafe exploded.” My voice was trembling towards the end, and I let the tears just roll down my cheeks. I was too tired to fight them, and it probably helped our cause anyway.

“Have you spoken with authorities about the attack?” the first woman asked.

“With all due respect, I have been more concerned about my family and my community,” I responded. “We plan to speak to authorities when they reach out.”

Nils gave my hand a small pump, as though communicating silently that I’d said the perfect thing, then responded to the next question. “What went through both your heads when the fire went up?”

“Need to exit, wait, the exit is on fire, hey the windows, wait, the windows are blocked and they’re hot, oh wait, I have a leather jacket that can protect my hands while I open them.” Nils managed to drag his normal sarcasm with a trace of entirely uncharacteristic humility as though that was a chain of thoughts that would have occurred to a normal person to describe it all so dismissively. “Following that, ‘hey, leather jackets are fire resistant, I should probably help get people out,’ and somewhere in there is ‘thank God everyone here is sane, compassionate, and also helping’.”

He took a breath. “Genuinely though, it’s amazing how much everyone came together in the fire, her dad, the cafe owner, her, her mom, everyone just kinda went for it and tried to help as much as possible, evacuate people as fast as possible, tried to help medic as much as possible. The hospital’s risen to the occasion too, in the face of all this: they said they were going to take care of the victims of this attack without charge, and they’ve been giving the victims amazing care.”

The reporters went wild when Nils dropped that bit of ‘news’ on them. One managed to shout above the others a question about whether Nils’ family connection to the hospital had anything to do with that decision. “Both our fathers work for the hospital,” I confirmed when I felt him jerk like he’d been shot. “But the hospital has very much made this decision out of recognition for what can only be called a heinous act of terror committed against a small community.”

“Is it appropriate for you two to apply terrorism charges to an unknown…”

Nils’ voice cut across the question, coldly. “We just walked out of a building that exploded - killing at least three people - because a bunch of people set it on fire because they didn’t like that the owner was from the Middle East, after the building had been graffitied, repeatedly, with anti-Arab racial slurs. Terrorism is ‘violence committed against civilians for political reasons’ - what the FUCK would you call this if not that?”

I noticed that Nils left out the ‘by nonstate actors’ part from the definition of ‘terrorism.’ Regardless, murmurs rippled through the crowd. The point had been gotten across and given them something to chew on for local reports. The first reporter to recover decided to pursue that point. “Is there anything you would like to say to the people who are responsible for the fire?”

By this point, I was shaking with emotion and dying to go back inside and sit down in a quiet place, see my parents breathing. “You burned down a popular shop full of customers who were minding their own business. There are women dying upstairs for drinking tea and gossiping about their grandchildren. My cousin, Imran, is dead because he was picking up pastries for his wife and daughters. My parents are severely injured because they were there to meet the young man I had just gone on a first date with. You attacked people for being people and having lives. You are a coward, and I hope you have every day you deserve for the rest of your life.” In that moment, I couldn’t handle it anymore. I spun, pulling my hand free from Nils’ and storming back into the hospital.

I heard Nils answer one more question in a capacity that barely managed to conceal impatience verging on contempt - though that might have been my familiarity with him, the reporters seemed charmed - before I heard him rushing after me.

“I think we did it, Lash. You alright?”

Brushing tears from my cheeks, I laughed bitterly. “I am the furthest thing from alright. I want to see Mama and Baba, and I want Baba’s beard to scratch my cheek when he hugs me, even though I know his face is burned and his beard is gone. I want Mama to be nosy and pat my cheek and her bracelets clatter and her rings to bump my cheekbone like they do. I want Mori to be here to visit, not to help make sure my parents are going to survive. I want to go get coffee and have Uncle wink at me when he sneaks me extra baklava, and I can’t have any of it.” Without even thinking, I turned and buried my face in his chest, charred leather smell be damned.

“We’ll stay here for them, okay? We’ll be the first thing they see when they wake up. Promise. Your mom isn’t going to be long - it’ll be longer for your dad. But your mom should be coming out within an hour or two at this point.” Nils hugged me then, as though on impulse. His chin fit exactly on top of my head, and he was patient enough to let me ugly cry on him until all I was left with were sniffles and hiccups.

He said nothing about what I must look like after all that, only steadying me. “I think you need your sister right now. Let’s go find her. She reminds me of your mom, so she probably knows exactly what to do.”

#original fiction #nihilus rex #traumatized characters #original writing #modern dystopia #afterverse #writeblr #the miys #arcadian inquisition #science fiction #original science fiction #original sci fi #my writing #friend’s writing

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