#I can't gauge just how meaningful

[reginrokkr]

𝐂𝐗𝐕. Dáinsleif's last act for Teyvat —threads of all fate reweaving—.

Sometimes I think about Dain's last act in this story being that he reweaves the threads of all fate, which makes me wonder: Is this related to the Abyss Order messing so badly with their Loom of Fate operation that needs to be undone? Is the constellation structure, most likely than not a control system (you can't tell me that the Archon War wasn't just that in order to get rid of all the several gods that existed in Teyvat save for very few in order to make it easier to control them and what they do :| )? Or maybe a combination of both? Whatever it is, it's the fact that the Traveler has to go over Dain first in order to do that which makes me believe that he can do it himself, alas—

[sassy-cass-16]

look man. look

essek saying "bren" out loud, claiming a position on caleb's side as the mouthpiece of his regards to astrid, did something to me. i can't tell if it opened a wound or punched me or gave me a hug. all i know is that i am feeling so many emotions right now

more under the cut because i'm about to get rambly:

"bren aldric ermendrud" is a separate character from caleb widogast. he's a young boy learning how to make magic. he's a deeply traumatized and indoctrinated teenager. he's the boy who curled up with astrid and eadwulf in a freezing tower for warmth all night.

essek never met bren. he met caleb and he's never known him as anyone else. if i'm remembering correctly, caleb never even said the name "bren" to him during the campaign, and neither did any of the nein.

essek knows caleb widogast. he knows the man who held up the object of his worst crime and then kissed him in the bowels of a ship and made a floor of infinite stars for them to walk through together. he knows the person who healed over bren's wounds—thinly, but enough. he knows the man that the boy has become.

astrid knows bren. she barely knows who caleb is. she still calls him bren after hearing him referred to as caleb repeatedly. she can't know him as the man he is, she only knows the boy. there's some of bren in caleb, but there is no caleb in bren.

essek saying "bren sends his regards" is him gauging astrid's reaction, on one level—if she freaks out, which she did, she's in opposition to caleb's cause and thus a threat. on another level, it's essek delivering a very different subtextual message from caleb: "the boy who loved you is giving you one final warning."

because essek is a threat to astrid. their last meaningful interaction was slinging spells at each other in the blooming grove. and that's funny in a "current boyfriend vs ex girlfriend exclusively fight each other" kind of way, but it's also deeply tied to caleb's recurring theme of transformation. "bren sends his regards" also means "i have healed enough to love enough for someone else to know this name and use it with my consent. and this someone else is your enemy. what does that make you think i've become?"

it also does a fantastic job of communicating subtle offscreen discussions that have happened over the years since the end of c2. we don't have the details of when or how caleb told essek his birth name, but we know that he did, and we know from all of c2 that the name bren occupies a place of immense emotional weight for caleb. it functions similarly to a deadname in terms of who uses it and for what purpose. trent exclusively calls caleb bren to wound him and place himself in a position of power. astrid calls him bren to remind both him and herself of who they used to be—same with eadwulf, though obviously he's not here.

the first time we hear essek say "bren" is on caleb's behalf and confronting one of the narrative representations of caleb's trauma. it's four words that manage to communicate "i, your enemy on a hundred levels, can speak for both the man i love and the boy who loved you, because i know him in his entirety."

astrid knows bren and essek knows caleb, but only essek can speak for both. because at some point, caleb gave bren to essek. and we know this from four words. four IMPROVISED words.

god. this moment is just so fucking good

[tacticaldiary]

Roses and Purple Scarves

PAIRING: Spencer Reid x Reader

SYNOPSIS: He catches her eyes in the window's reflection, and there's a small part of him that's waiting to catch the frown on her face, or see her nodding along while looking down at her phone pretending to listen.

His heart skips a beat when he finds her looking directly at him with a smile, eyes so soft and interested it makes something warm settle in the pit of his stomach.

NOTE: I am NOT taking requests at the moment.

"Spencer I don't need more flowers," She laughs, trying to yank at his arm to get him moving. It's to no avail by the way he stays rooted to the spot in front of the display window. "I still have the last bouquet in a vase at home."

"I know." He says it so matter of factly, it makes her raise her brows and stop tugging.

"What do you mean 'you know?'" She relents, joining him to look into the store's window.

"I keep a flower from all your bouquets for myself. That way I know when they wilt so I can get you new ones." She's stunned at the answer, the gesture is so thoughtful and...and nice. It's so Spencer, and by the half smile on his face he's trying to hide, he knows it too.

"You're too good to me." She says after a beat, meeting his eyes in the window's reflection, "I don't need a dozen roses to know you love me, for the record...but they are appreciated."

"Flower language." Spencer hums, peering through the glass at the colorful array of petals. "It's fascinating actually, people tend to associate the origin of floriography to be from the old victorian era, but traces of meaning can be tracked all the way back to Persia and the Middle East much before that." He catches her eyes in the window's reflection, and there's a small part of him that's waiting to catch the frown on her face, or see her nodding along while looking down at her phone pretending to listen.

His heart skips a beat when he finds her looking directly at him with a smile, eyes so soft and interested it makes something warm settle in the pit of his stomach. Spencer blinks, turns to face her for real. "I read a book about it a while ago," He shrugs, offering her a smile.

"I'd love to borrow it sometime." She responds, looping their arms together. It's a chilly day, snowflakes peppering down casing the cobblestone street below in specks of icy white.

"Really?" Spencer raises an eyebrow.

"You know I love flowers." She confirms as they continue down the little street. "I've always wanted to have a garden of my own, but the balcony of my apartment isn't big enough."

Spencer listens attentively, keeping her close to his side. It's instinct, the way his gloved hand rests against her waist as they walk, the gentle push and pull of weaving through among other people going this way and that. The contact makes her feel warm and wanted, a small gesture that encompasses all of what Spencer is.

Meaningful. If she could describe Dr Spencer Reid with one word, it would be meaningful. Everything he does is purposeful and attentive.

Remembering how she takes her coffee in the mornings without her ever mentioning it. Watching her frown at the days crossword because he knows that if she wants his help she'll ask for it (even if Spencer can't help but cringe at her sighing dramatically loud at a puzzle he'd solved in his head 25 minutes ago). It was the little things, woven with meaning that made her feel seen.

Made her feel understood.

Reaching down between them, she grabs his hand, intertwining their fingers, squeezing gently.

"You could always look into aeroponics." Spencer smiles as they come to a stop in front of a crosswalk. He pushes the button with his elbow and the both of them are left to wait for the indication to cross.

"The exposed roots freak me out." Remembering the pictures she's seen sends a shudder down her spine. "I mean, it doesn't look natural does it? Plants were meant to come from the earth, watching them dangling in the air just feels wrong," When she glances up to gauge his agreement, the rest of the words die on her tongue.

Spencer stares at her with a soft smile and enamoured eyes. If you asked him, he wouldn't be able to repeat half of what she'd just said despite his impressive memory.

It's frightening, how often he gets lost in her. In the way she furrows her brow, the manner in which she moves and the cadence of her voice that make him lean in closer to hang on to every small inflection like a siren's melody.

"What?" She asks, brow furrowed. "Have I got something-" He leans down and steals the words from her before she can finish, kissing her soft but firm, hands tangling in the hair at the back of her head. He can't help it, especially when he sees the little parts of himself that she's adopted, mirrored from how much time they spend together. Time and time again she's assured him that she thinks his monologues and rambling are endearing, pulled him out of his head with sweet words and lips when he gets too wrapped up in himself.

He's starting to understand. Watching her talk about roots and plants...God, she could talk about paint drying and he'd listen and commit each word to memory.

Kissing Spencer isn't fireworks.

It's a symphony.

From start to finish, he puts his heart into every movement, feeling bleeding into every quirk of his hands, every tilt of his head.

She mumbles his name against his lips and he barely stops himself from chasing her when she pulls back with a hand on his chest. Taking a minute to catch her breath, she graces him with a radiant smile that knocks his away. "I didn't know you loved plants that much."

"I love you." He knocks their foreheads together.

The indicator flashes green across the street, prompting them to cross, but the two stay where they are letting the atmosphere sink in. Spencer smiles softly, moving to brush off the snowflakes on the shoulders of her coat.

"You're cold." He observes when his hand brush against her neck.

"It is snowing." She smiles. Spencer huffs, unwinding his scarf from around himself. Ignoring her protests, he wraps it around her snugly.

The purple is a horrific clash to her outfit, but it's warm, and it smells like him, the calming scent washing over her as she sinks into it and takes a deep breath. "Won't you be cold?"

"I've survived worse." He chuckles when she smacks his shoulder.

"That's not funny!"

"It's a little funny." He argues, smiling against her lips.

The crosswalk flashes red, cars start moving but the world stays still around them.

Reblog, Like and Comment!

(19/04/2024)

[baronessvonglitter]

Cherry, Cherry 🍒 Chapter 2 🍒 "Coffee & Garth Brooks"

pre-outbreak! AU!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Word count: 1,247

Summary: Joel visits you at work and during some innocent flirting, you reveal something that you probably should have just kept quiet about.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, however this chapter is pretty tame, age gap (reader is 18, Joel is 35), reader is tomboyish but otherwise no race mentioned and will not be throughout the series, until specified this story takes place in the summer of 2003 and is AU with no outbreak, flirting, reader has mild fantasies about Joel, no use of y/n

Series Masterlist

Mondays at the cafe are hectic. So as eager as you are to see if Joel will show up, you're also swamped with orders. It's not until the crowd begins to clear that you see him. He's smiling at you and you can't ignore the way your heart does a little backflip.

"Hey!" You greet him with a smile.

He approaches the counter. Today he's wearing a heather-gray t shirt and jeans. His hair is tousled, beard neatly trimmed, and you catch a whiff of clean-scented shower gel coming off him. "I remember you," he says, a playful glint in his dark eyes.

"I remember you too. . and I remember I owe you a coffee for helping me yesterday."

"Hang on there. Where's that ring I labored so arduously to free from your kitchen drain?"

You smile at his wordiness. "Why, it's right here." You extend your left hand to show off the ring, a lot cleaner and shinier than the last time he saw it.

He surprises you by taking your hand with a delicate touch. "It would've been a shame to lose somethin' so pretty." His eyes move up to yours, as if to gauge your reaction. "That offer still on the table?"

This small yet meaningful gesture mesmerizes you. "The… offer?" you mumble. "Oh! The coffee." Crimson, you fix his coffee, giving him a bigger size than you're supposed to. "Are you on your way to a site?" You ask as you hand him his drink.

"Thank you. Yeah, I've gotta check in on a site before noon." He sips his coffee, leaning against the counter. You try not to stare but you give a quick glance - his body, even when at rest, seems powerful.

"What's it like, being a contractor? Do you like it?" Before the words come out of your mouth you realize how immature you sound. Of course he likes it. He wouldn't be in that business if he didn't.

You feel a little relief when he smiles. "It depends on the day. You get plenty of sun, and you have to deal with a lot of bullshit, deadlines.. but it pays. So I don't mind it all that much. What about you? You enjoy bein' a barista?" Joel smirks and you wonder if he's enjoying your exchange as much as you are.

"It's thrilling," you say in a deadpan voice. "Wanna trade places for a day?"

"I'll pass," he laughs. "Sounds like you're tryin' to get out of work right now," he teases you, leaning over the counter. He places his elbows down and rests his chin on his clasped palms.

"Can you blame me? At least you get your choice of music in your truck, not whatever this is," you roll your eyes at the indie jazz playing over the speakers.

"I'm in charge of the radio in my truck. Just the way I like it."

"What do you listen to?" You also lean against the counter, subconsciously angling yourself towards him. You're only vaguely aware of the cafe, of your surroundings. As you talk with him it just feels good.

"I'll listen to almost anything: rock, oldies, anything really. I guess I don't like anything too artsy and pretentious-soundin'," he answers.

"You strike me as a country music lover," you give him a little bit of teasing.

He tilts his head to the side. "You got a read on me already, huh? Well I won't lie, I listen to some country, but only the old stuff. Not this new, pop-py, overproduced stuff."

"Do you like Garth Brooks? George Strait? They're the greats. You have to like them."

"Girl, you're too young to tell me who the greats are," he grins. "George is the king of country music. Garth's a given. He's kinda cheesy sometimes, but his songwriting is great, no denyin' that."

"When I was a kid I used to go around singing his songs to anyone who would listen. I would put on a show, sing at the top of my lungs.. I was a pretty rambunctious kid," you laugh at the memory.

"Bet you're just as rambunctious as an adult too," he says playfully.

You smirk. Joel's flirting with you, there's nothing more obvious. "I'm a college girl. I'm supposed to be rambunctious."

He gives a low chuckle and an intrusive thought slides into your brain: you want to know what that low rumble in his chest sounds like, with your ear pressed against him… When you come back to your senses you catch his eyes scanning your face. "Fair enough. I'm sure you've got all the boys chasin' ya, huh?"

There it is: the question you thought was only ever asked in books, in movies, and Joel is the one to ask it about you. "Oh.. not really.."

"I find that hard to believe."

You look away a moment, wiping an invisible spot on the counter with a cloth. "Truth is, I kind of have someone.. back home in Houston." You dare a peek at him only to see something like relief cross his face.

"That's great," he says, maintaining a smile.

You regret saying something like that. Trevor isn't someone worth bringing up to Joel, yet you have used him almost as a shield, and you don't know why. "It's, uh.. kind of uh.. ambiguous," you add. "He's going to university there. I guess we're still figuring things out."

Joel nodded slowly. "So.. it's complicated, is what you're sayin'?"

"A little.. I don't really, you know, want to talk about it." You smile and shrug as if it's a minor thing.

"Of course." He puts his hands up, then he looks like he wants to say something but he stays quiet. Looking at his watch he says, "I gotta get to the site."

"Yeah.. I should also get back to work." You turn your back for a moment then turn again to say something else to him but he's already outside going to his truck.

The rest of your shift goes by smoothly and you pocket your tips and start home. Once you're comfortable in the house you allow yourself to think about your interaction with Joel. Of course the first friend you make in Austin would be the ruggedly handsome, middle-aged man next door. A man with a daughter only a few years younger than yourself.

You've never really been in this position before. You don't really recognize your own feelings. You've had crushes on older guys before: teachers, coaches.. so why is this time different? And why are you struggling with it?

Joel, meanwhile, feels himself in almost the same predicament. He doesn't want to admit it to himself but he really likes you. The age difference is too much for him to even consider, but your presence.. it's getting to him. He likes talking to you, wants to be close to you.. but he can't. He doesn't want to mess up his life, and it will only cause problems if he doesn't keep his distance. He worries he won't be able to fully shake you off his mind.

A few days later he spots a paper on his truck windshield. It's a handwritten note from you:

pool party at our place this Saturday @ 2 pm

and your name signed underneath. Joel smiles and gets a pen from inside his truck to write a reply.

We'll be there, he writes beneath your message and he leaves the paper on your car windshield.

<- prev chapter

next chapter ->

divider by @saradika-graphics 👑

[heissobabygirl]

Graves X Male!Top!Shadow!Reader

A/N: hey guys, noticed a lack of male reader Graves fanfiction so I'm here to (hopefully) kinda fill that void! Hope you all like it. This took me like a week but I love the song it's based around, I def recommend listening to it during the read if you haven't already! This was only read by my sister and she told me I HAD to publish it, so I am. Sorry if there are mistakes. Feel free to request if you like my writing. I'm only writing COD at the moment and I only write male reader (sorry ladies ;-;). Enjoy!!

The following contains ANGST and HORNY

DO NOT READ IF YOU DONT LIKE THOSE THINGS

Okay byyyye :)

Song to play while reading: Granite by Sleep Token

-------

Sulfur on your breath

Granite in my chest

You will never have to talk about it

You never want to talk about it

You tried justifying your actions in your head as you heaved the scolding hot tank lid up.

"Graves!" You called, smoke immediately filling your senses due to the proximity of the fire. It burned your nose and esophagus, causing your throat to constrict. "Phillip!" You can't help but go into a coughing fit. The cackles of embers ignited by the explosion seemingly mocking you. Taunting you for saving the man who created this mess for himself. Why were you bailing him out again?

Squinting your eyes and taking a deep breath of oxygen you dive into the opening. You fumble blindly through the ocean of smoke, trying to feel any material other than the metal interior of the tank.

Your hand brushes against what feels like the nylon threads of a tactical vest. Looping your fingers through the straps you pull with every muscle your body can spare.

Your body aches, the lack of oxygen dizzying your mind. You step to the top of the tank, heaving the body up with the force of everything you had left: adrenaline and spite. You pick the man up, hoping down, feet once again finding cement. You drag him a good distance away from the burning war machine, slumping him gently on the ground.

"Commander." Your voice is hoarse from coughing, "Commander don't you fucking give up on me." You straddle him, his blonde hair dark from soot and ash. It's smeared across his face, bonding with beads of sweat against his skin.

Your fingers tread down the path of his vest, finding the velcro belt to rip it off of him. Throwing it to the side, his neck is also covered in the black soot, almost like it was a growing infection. Drops of midnight sweat dripping down the dips of his muscles. Ripping off a glove with your teeth, you check his pulse. It's fading fast, the thrum of his heart dying as his chest fills less and less with each inhale. You know what you have to do.

You place his hands on his chest, locking them in place. Returning to his side you tilt his head up, pinching his nose to close it off. You place your hands over his, the sweat hanging to your skin as the warmth of his radiates through your palms.

–

Fury too damn late

Reason dislocated

Soon you'll never have to talk about it

You never want to talk about it

Your voices ring with animosity throughout Grave's home office.

"Don't tell me how to do my Goddamn job, Soldier!" His voice was stern, his gaze going from a soft expression to the deadly and stormy as he grew more agitated.

"Soldier? Really? Were not on the fucking field, Phillip!" You snark back, shooting him a vehement glare of your own. He just stares you down, his gaze burning into your own as you two clash.

"Oh, right! How could I be so stupid. You, Phillip Graves, could NEVER be in a meaningful relationship! All you can do is keep people at arm's length with some fake authority you hold over them! Get real Phillip! If you don't cut this shit out you're gonna die alone!" You couldn't gauge his reaction, it looked the same as before.

"And you don't care…do you?" Your voice is softer this time. The words float through the air tantalizingly, striking him in the chest. The walls he built were coming down in moments, but he'd never let you know. Your brows furrowed, knitting up at the inside corners. "You don't care about me, you care about this stupid fucking job. You care about getting the mission done, pleasing people that don't even matter-" your words shrivel up and die on your tongue, just like your spirit.

You can feel tears stinging at your lash line. Rage brews in the pits of your guts, teeth grinding together to curb your urge to deck your Commander in the face. You do the only things you can, you turn to leave.

"Hey-" steps thud throughout the room, starting slowly and growing closer together the closer your hand gets to the door knob. A hand grabs your shoulder, spinning you around to look the blonde in the face. "You can say whatever the hell you want about me. But don't you dare say I don't care about you."

–

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet

I see you go half blind when you're looking at me

But I am

The music played softly through the car, drifting through the space that was nearly extinct between the both of you. Your hands on his hips, squeezing and rubbing your thumb in circles over the fabric.

The stubble of his facial hair rubs against your face, the scratch a ticklish but good feeling. His hands are around your neck, running his greedy hands wherever you may allow him.

You reach around to grip his ass, the flesh soft as he groans into your lip lock. Your hands snake back around, unbuckling his belt, running it through the loops and discarding it on the floor of your car. Your fingers make quick work of his jeans, unbuttoning them and pooling them at his thighs.

Your lips move to his neck, biting the soft skin as he jerks against you. You hold his hips still with your strong grip, kneading the flesh of hips. He mewls, the Phillip Graves mewls. "Fuuuuck." He drolls, his tone raspy.

"Can't believe you're this worked up already, Phil." He screws his eyes shut, tipping his head back.

"Shut up-" He stumbles over the words he's searching for. "You should just be happy you're getting this chance, Lutentiant." His hands grip your shoulder for stability, giving you a tight squeeze.

You hum, bringing your lips close to his ear speaking low, "Oh I'm so lucky. Fucking my Commander in my car because he couldn't wait to get home to whore himself out." You watch his throat Bob, Adam's apple moving with the action. The words coarse through him, straight to his dick. It throbs at your voice, seemingly knowing who it belongs to.

–

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the street

You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave

You say you want me but you know

I'm not what you need

But I am

“You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but don’t you dare say I don’t care about you.” His eyes bore into your’s, creating a moment of silence that’s quickly shattered by you.

“Then maybe you should fucking act like it, Phillip.” The use of his first name makes him cringe. He hasn’t heard it from your lips in so long he forgot it was his. He spent so long, more time than you knew, clinging to every word you said. Committing your features to memory so if you ever left him he would have the lines of your skin mapped out so you could crawl inside his skull and be safe there.

Graves was no fool, he knew his line of work was dangerous, he knew he was walking on cracking ice everytime he stepped outside. With one wrong move, one missed sign, he would fall in and drown. A part of him always hoped you would save him, put an end to his reckless ways. That you pull him up, back onto a more sturdy section of the ice and he could steal the oxygen from your lungs that you would always so happily and eagerly give. You loved him after all.

But now, he could see the adoration you always swirling in your eyes when he was within your vicinity was dead and gone. Replaced by a dull and dreary cacophony of resentment and pain. He was smothering you, he had taken too much. There was nothing he could do to save you.

Even if he poured everything he had into you, filling you up with everything he had so greedily taken you were too broken to store it anywhere. Not your eyes, not your hands, not your heart.

–

When you sit there acting like you know me

Acting like you only brought me here to get below me

Nevermind the death threats parting at the door

We’d rather be six feet under than be lonely

The words coarse through him, straight to his dick. It throbs at your voice, seemingly knowing who it belongs to. He closes his eyes, screwing them shut. Hips rutting and stuttering against you to get any kind of friction.

“Stop teasing.” His tone waivers, brinking on the edge of neediness and desperation still. Your hands trace his figure, snaking their way up to his hair. You can feel it between your fingers, the strands dancing across your skin as you give a harsh yank. He grunts, his head tipping back with the pull of his hair. Your lips clash with his neck again, being gentle with your mouth work as you trail to his collar bones.

Your fingers undo the buttons of his shirt, the fabric lying dead as you discard it. His upper half is vulnerable for your eyes to devour; and devour your eyes do. Your gaze rakes over him, sending chills throughout his veins, his heart skipping for just a moment enough to be noticed.

“Thought you loved my teasing though. I mean, obviously you do. Look at this.” You palm his erection, the friction sending waves of heat through his nerves. It crashes through him with the force of the sun, clouding his headspace. The only visage he can conceive is of you. “Look at you.” Your voice is hushed, soft even.

“All worked up over a single touch? Remember to breathe, baby.” You chuckle.

–

If you had a problem, then you should’ve told me

Before you started getting all aggressive and controlling

You only drink the water

When you think it’s holy

Even if he poured everything he had into you, filling you up with everything he had so greedily taken; you were too broken to store it anywhere. Not your eyes, not your hands, not your heart. They had no room for him anymore.

“I’m leaving.” You break his thoughts, shattering them into a million pieces and scattering them across your shared living space.

“You never talk to me anymore, Phillip.” That wasn’t what you were supposed to call him.

“You hull yourself up here in your office, create these walls, create a mess-” you take a breath. He takes the opportunity to speak.

“Well, hey- Let’s talk this out, okay? Nobody has to leave anywhere-” he’s negotiating. Trying to gather the shards of his thoughts, collecting them and their jagged edges that cut and pierce his skin. In all honesty, they probably pierce your’s too. They dig into your epidermis, like a parasite, embedding themselves right out of your grasp. Only able to access them if you want to rip yourself apart, and you couldn’t bear to see crimson anymore.

“No Phillip.” You shut him down. “I’m tired of talking it out. It never works with you. Your words mean nothing to yourself and to me. You know this, I know you do.” Your voice sounds defeated and drained. The last ropes tethering you to him snapped and shredded to bits. But he would be damned if he didn't try to knot them back together, even with the fraying edges.

You couldn’t leave him, he would do anything for you to stay. He knew that, but he never revealed that to you. So how were you supposed to see his hurt, his anger, his desperation to make you stay. He would cement your feet in place if he needed to.

–

So keep an eye on the road or we will both be here forever

“All worked up over a single touch? Remember to breathe, baby.” You chuckle. Your pants had been discarded long ago, your arousal just as prevalent as his. Tucking your fingers under the hem of his boxers, you pull them down. His chest heaves as the cool night’s air hits his hard cock. Your hands find purchase on his hips once more, he throws his head back.

“Please.” He whines. “Please, I don’t care anymore, just fuck me please.” His voice breaks, the shift of his personality making you even harder.

“Of course my love. I’m so proud of you for begging for it like the good boy I know you are.” He nods, burying his face in your neck as you slowly split him open with your cock. His breathing hitches, the pace becoming erratic as you shush him. “Just breathe, baby. Tell me if it hurts.”

“Just-” His back arches as he reaches the end of your length. “Just move please.” His throat constricts as you snap your hips up, a choked moan coming from deep within him. He jolts when you hit the spot he loves the most, your name tumbling from his mouth like a mantra. It was the only thing he could remember at this point, the only thing he cared to remember.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty like this.” You pant, watching him as intently as the moment would allow. Your hand wraps around his dick, palm stimulating the tip as you move down the rest of his shaft stroking as well as you could using the precum as lube.

His hands grip tightly on your shoulders, bouncing himself with the rhythm of your thrusts. Skin making contact with skin resounding through the car’s space. His grip tightens, his nails sure to leave crescent shaped marks.

His moans are needy, guttural. “So, so good for me, love.” Red dusts his cheeks as you speak, keening at the parise you’re giving him. You can tell he’s about to come undone. The way his bounces stutter and his body jolts at the contact, he’s close.

“Look at me, baby. Look at me.” You grab his face, turning his head to look at you. The blue of his eyes meet yours, his pupils blown wide as he looks dazed. God you loved when he looked like this. “I wanna see your face when you cum, I wanna see that pretty fuckin’ face.” He nods the best he can, whining at words coming from your mouth. God he can feel you reaching so deep inside of him, scratching the itch that burns within like nobody else could. The way you snapped your hips hypnotized him, the only thing he could focus on was your voice.

He felt himself teetering on the edge, pushed to climax by a powerful thrust of your own. White spurted all over his toned stomach and you. His body shakes and convulses, your hands never leaving his hips as he slumps forward onto you. His face finds your neck again as you chase your own high, unintentionally over stimulating his senses. His legs shake something fierce as you cum inside him, the warmth spreading through his entire being.

Your arms wrap around him, bringing him as close as humanly possible. Smoothing your hands down his back as he twitches and pants.

"You did so well baby. So well."

–

I was more than just a body in your passenger seat

You were more than just somebody I was destined to meet

I see you go half blind when you're looking at me

But I am

You place your hands over his, the sweat hanging to your skin as the warmth of his radiates through your palms. You steady your breathing, leaning down and connecting your lips. You've done this so many times before, moments that felt like life or death but this was different. This was life or death. You breathe into his mouth, his chest rising with oxygen from your own lungs.

Your hands move to his chest, using your weight to press down intermittently but harshly. Afterall, good CPR cracks the ribs. That's just what you did, the sickening crunch fills your ears as you keep administering CPR. After thirty compressions, you move back down to his level. You're getting ready to fill his lungs again when he sputters a breath.

"Baby? Baby, can you hear me?" You cup his face, steading his head and neck. He groans, hand reaching up and attaching itself to your arm.

"Hey, you're okay. You're okay, we're gonna get you out of here." You smack your radio, static fizzing on the other side.

"This is L.T. (L/N). Does anyone copy?" You wait for a response. "I'm in need of immediate medical aid, I have Commander Graves. I repeat, I have Commander Graves."

A moment of silence passes, and just when you're about to give up a voice answers you.

"We copy, L.T. We are inbound to your position right now. ETA 3 minutes out." You breathe a sigh of relief, the adrenaline in your body starting to disappear. Graves look at you, his hand never leaving your arm. You sit next to him, finally turning your attention to the wound on your side. The giant gash now causing a noticeable gnawing pain that radiates from the sight through your whole body.

"Fuck." You mutter, shifting your weight painfully

"You're hurt." Graves' voice rings through your head. His voice hoarse from misuse.

"Yeah, that fucker Ghost got me." You say, sucking in a breath as you apply pressure to the wound. "Atleast I think it was him based on the height. Managed to nail my side with a Shotgun blast." The wound was bigger than your hand. In the little time you've touched it blood has stained the skin, the crimson you're so familiar with the last sight you may see.

Graves is silent, studying your face as you lie next to him, your hands interlocking. You bring his knuckles up to your lips, kissing them softly. These three minutes seem to drag on for eternity. Your vision fading around the edges, you close your eyes trying to focus on your pained breathing.

"Hey," Graves finally speaks.

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

Between the second hand smoke and the glass on the streets

You gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave

You say you want me but you know I'm not what you need

But I am

"I love you too, Graves."

[missskzbiased]

Game of Hearts

Summary: You would never have imagined this but playing an Otome Game becomes a path-changing way to live your life. Every choice you make dictates the way your real life will develop, and who you'll end up with. There is only one problem: Can you navigate this 'Game of Hearts' successfully?

Pairing: Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

WC: ~4,2 K

Genre: Romance, Drama, Blurb, Friends to Lovers (?), Confession, Game

Warnings: Language, 1st person

Notes: I had fun playing with this idea. This fic was inspired by "Back to 15" and my longing to build something that'd give a sensation of choice/participation for the readers. But for now, this is just a blurb.

Every single decision you make counts.

It could be something as stupid as having a vanilla ice cream today instead of a crepe, or something more meaningful as helping someone in need instead of turning your back away. It's terrifying, yet fulfilling. When you pile enough of those decisions, it becomes a part of you, a defining trait. Looking back, you may wonder: Wow, did I really do that? And in that moment, you could find yourself either smiling or shedding tears as you contemplate your past.

It's amazing, really, how much power we hold in our hands.

And frightening.

Not the kind of fear you experience when there's a loud thud outside your door, and you convince yourself that it was probably the cat or the wind. No, it's the fear that creeps in when you trail an unfamiliar path, risking a wrong way to a place you have never been before. It's that feeling you have when you can't help but wonder if you made the right choice. It's those haunting thoughts that make you question why you're taking so long to get there. It's the way your heartbeats fly through the window by the possibility of being left behind, all by yourself, as people move on, as they drift away.

The fear of moving forward or walking back.

Paralyzing, yet thriving.

"So? What's taking you so long?" Hyunjin uncrosses his arms, leaning back on his hands and inadvertently shifting my bed. Naturally, my body follows suit, sinking into the hollow he made.

Our shoulders bump.

It's nothing new, a familiar occurrence among friends. I've bumped shoulders with him a hundred times before. But it's different. Now, I feel every inch of my bare skin in contact with his, and inch by inch our arms connect. Suddenly, I miss the winter uniform and its sleeves going all the way down to my elbows, shielding me from the sizzling heat ignited by our skin-to-skin contact. A heat that spreads from my arms to my neck and face. A heat that swelters me. It is hot in here, isn't it?

The concept of a summer uniform seems pointless right now.

  "Want me to take the lead?" Hyunjin's fingers brush against mine, breaking my reverie. My eyes snap to his fingers, to his face, to his eyes; searching for any traces of change in his behavior.

Instead, I find that mischievous, familiar sparkle in his eyes.

I quickly avert my gaze back to the screen, making a point not to lock eyes with him for more than two seconds.

Turns out he only needed one and a half to dazzle me.

Before me, three options gleam with white letters on a blurry scenario, backed by a soothing piano tune in the background. I hover my selection between the first two. The letters glow brighter as I shift through each one: Bad Boy and then Nerd. Carefully, I read the third one: Childhood Friend.

Hyunjin's face flashes back to my thoughts.

I catch myself gauging the glimmer of every little star sprinkling his eyes. I try not to notice how adorable he looks as his eye bags turn puffier than ever, his playfulness shining through them. He was just making fun of me, teasing me as he always does.

Classic Jinnie.

"You're not taking me seriously" Deflect your thoughts, I scold myself, "This isn't the time for games, Hyunjin" His gaze scans my face, as if he suddenly realizes I'm not just jesting.

"Hyunjin" He mutters under his breath, not low enough for my ears to miss. It's amusing how worked up he gets at something so silly, but I can't afford to be diverted by his antics, not with so much at stake, "I mean, it's a little hard to take you seriously when you're fooling around so much!" He snatches the joystick from my hand and toggles between the options. "How could this game change your life?" He scoffs, hovering over 'Childhood Friend'.

"Give it back!" I slap him, snatching the joystick back.

His intense gaze burns into my face.

"What?" I grumble, shifting my attention to the options, as I toggle between them, trying to distract myself from the way he's scrutinizing me, "What?" I repeat impatiently, still avoiding his gaze.

"You're... Snappy" He remarks, leaning forward in an attempt to catch my eyes. I flick my glance towards him and then back to the screen, then back to him, and then... "Do you..." He clears his throat, adjusts his collar, and swallows dryly, "Have a crush on me or something?" He fidgets, and I have enough.

"Really?" This time, I feel obliged to look at him. My expression morphs into an exasperated grimace, and Hyunjin seems to ease back in his seat.

"Well, I don't know!" He raises his hands, trying to defend himself, "You invite me into your room and get all flustered, silent, snappy, and weird! What do you want me to think?!"

"I'm not flustered!" My protest falls on deaf ears.

"You literally avoided my gaze for like five minutes, and there are just the two of us in this room" He gestures exageratedly around my bedroom to make his point, "And I'm sorry if I sound conceited right now, but I think I'm much more interesting than anything in here for you to avoid me this much. So, yeah! Excuse me if I thought you were about to confess or something"

"Hyunjin, get your head out of your ass for a second," I plead so genuinely that it draws a snort out of him, "I'm not confessing, stop freaking out"

"I'm not freaking out, and stop calling me Hyunjin!" He protests, and I sigh heavily.

"Ok, Jinnie" I roll my eyes but I notice his features brightening up, "Will you listen to me now?" I look into his eyes, and our gazes lock together as in a determined handshake. 

We seal an unspoken deal. His expression shifts into something more sober, conveying his trust despite how insane I sound. His hand gently rests on top of my thigh, offering reassurance, and then he nods encouragingly.

"I'm listening" It's a promise.

"Somehow..." I'm at a loss for words. How could I even begin to describe whatever the fuck was happening in my life right now? "I mean... I think... Somehow..." He waits patiently, still locked in my gaze, "Could you look away for a sec?" I clear my throat, breaking eye contact as I try to gather my thoughts, "What I mean is..."

"Are you sure this isn't a confession?" He jokes lighthearted, trying to ease my mood.

"Hyunjin" I summon the courage to meet his eyes again. He seems bothered by the way I say his name, his fingers subtly gripping my thigh. His eyes darken, and he shakes his head slightly, as if to dispel a shiver, "Jinnie" I correct myself, but he doesn't seek my eyes again, and the warmth of his touch recedes, "I'm scared" I confess, nervously nibbling on my lower lip.

He doesn't say a word.

Of course, he doesn't. What could he possibly say? He has no idea what I'm trying to say, and I don't know how to make him understand me. Or believe me.

"Y/N" He coaxes, leaning forward to examine my face, "Trust me"

"I do, it's just..." I clear my throat again, inhaling deeply until it starts to hurt too much to keep breathing in. Then, I let it all out in a heavy sigh before studying his face, "You wouldn't believe me. Heck, I wouldn't believe me" I admit, praying for God that I could at least say something that made sense at this point, "I think... I know that this game has the power to change my future" I say in one breath, hoping it could fix any misunderstandings.

Silence.

Hyunjin stares blankly at me, almost as if he's in a daze. He fixes himself on his seat, shifting his gaze to the screen, completely absent-minded. I can't decipher his expression. Is he questioning my sanity, debating whether to call an ambulance or simply taking everything in? When he finally returns his gaze to me, I still have no idea about what is going on in his mind.

He opens his mouth and then closes it.

He does it again.

Then again.

"I know it's hard to believ—" He raises his finger to cut me off.

"Let me just check something" He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes, and then opening them to focus on me, "Are you on drugs?" I start to protest, making a strangled, high-pitched noise in my throat. Hyunjin gestures for me to stop, "Okay, right. Just had to make sure"

"Look" I groan, taken by the anger of not being able to convey my point, "I don't know how to explain it, okay? My life is somehow connected to this Otome Game. Each time I choose one option, someone in real life falls for me" I pause, allowing him some time to process this information.

"Y/N..." Hyunjin ponders his words carefully. His expression shifts through a range of emotions as he searches for something tactful to say. It's crystal clear that he is struggling with that, and about half a minute later, he finally gives up, "This is just insane" He declares, his eyes widening to emphasize his disbelief, as if attempting to shake me out of a reverie.

"Hyunjin" I take his hand on mine, diving into his eyes to show him my unwavering conviction, "I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I tried to deal with it by myself, but right now, I need a friend. I need you, okay?"

"Y/N, you'll always have a friend in me, but I can't pretend I believe in this shit. This is just crazy, you know that, right?" He squeezes my hands into his, returning my look earnestly, "There's no way a game can change the reality"

"I know that" I nod, and he seems relieved for a second, "But it's happening, Hyunjin. I'm not insane, I can assure you of that much"

"I'll probably regret this, but..." He takes a deep breath, letting out a heavy sigh, "What makes you so sure?"

"Before, when I played it, I went for the Bad Boy" I start my explanation, which seems to already bore him. I hope he's patient enough to hear me out, "And Minho hit on me. You know he doesn't even look my way at school!" Hyunjin doesn't react to it. I click my tongue but continue, "Then, I went for Nerd and Chan came to talk to me in the library. He was super nice and giggly! I swear to God he had the heart eyes" Once again, Hyunjin isn't impressed, "And then I went for Childhood Friend..." I glance at him shyly but he doesn't let me finish.

"So, let me throw a new perspective in here" He puckers his lips, then sucks them in, pursing them as he hums sarcastically, "Did it ever cross your mind that they might have a crush on you, and it was all just a coincidence?" He arches his eyebrows meaningfully, suggesting that he has just figured everything out. I roll my eyes.

"Alright, this isn't working" I fix my eyes on the ceiling, trying to gather all my thoughts and not just punch him and send him to hell. I pop my lips, clenching my jaw before looking at him before pleading, "Do you trust me?" He frowns but nods anyway, "Then, let me show you, cuz words alone can't and won't convince you"

"Go on" He shrugs his shoulders, "Show me" His disdain boils my blood, but I don't let it show on my face. At least, I hope not.

I hesitated for a moment, then selected 'Childhood Friend'.

The screen transitioned to a new scenario. The boy on screen looked nothing like Hyunjin, not a single strand of his hair, but his teasing smile and soft eyes were uncannily similar. Still, this wasn't convincing enough. Hyunjin slowly looked at me, grinning at me with oozing confidence, as if challenging me: "See? Nothing changed" His silence spoke volumes.

I keep my eyes on the game, contemplating the scene. It's a bedroom, different from mine, yet the characters were in the same position as us, sitting side by side in dreadful silence.

I've noticed you're getting closer to Reno. He says, casting a glance at the main female character. Is there something going on between you?

Hyunjin's eyebrow twitched, and he shot me a questioningly, curious, and troubled look: "Were you going for Minho before?" He scoffs, but his attempt at humor falls flat. I duck my head between my shoulders, shrugging unsurely. 

"Yeah?" I admit reluctantly, avoiding eye contact. It's embarrassing to seek the most obvious choice: The bad boy with a good heart.

"Oh" He delivers quietly, "I see"

Despite the tension in the air, this isn't enough to prove my point, to make him believe in me. So I selected the option that would further test the game's impact on Hyunjin. No. Hyunjin fixes his posture but doesn't say or show anything else.

Oh! I see. Ironical, isn't it? I look at him with a smug face. So... You're just friends, right?

Hyunjin holds his breath, his eyes trained on the screen. There were three options for me to choose but one of them seemed to pop to him. He didn't say anything, but I could feel him restless by my side. The turmoil set inside his mind was evident. Something in the situation fascinates him and has his thoughts wandering.

Not as good friends as us! I scrutinize the option, knowing that this wouldn't set the romantic tone. It was a good thing to save both of us from further problems but it wasn't convincing enough.

Skip.

I... I might have a crush on him. The heartbreaking option. The tone would make me lose some affection points. Not the answer I wanted to give nor the one Hyunjin wanted to receive.

Skip.

Of course... I... I like someone else. The right answer. The one that would set the tone for something more vulnerable and heartwarming. The uncertainty would prompt him to seek answers, to unravel the truth. Who did my character like then?

Hyunjin digs his fingers into the mattress.

I go back to option number two.

Lock.

I couldn't risk losing his friendship and complicating things any further in real life. This should be enough to make him understand, right? It was already obvious that he was yearning for something more, for something that he wouldn't seek if it wasn't the game. It stirred something within him. Was it enough, though?

Unexpectedly, Hyunjin stands up.

"Jeez!" I bring my hand to my heart, startled.

"I have to go" He blurts, making his way to my door.

"Wait!" I reach for him, grabbing his wrist, "What happened?!"

"I don't wanna talk about it" He replied, not looking me in the eyes.

"Jinnie, what happened?" I ask softly, and he softens up with my tone.

"I don't wanna be alone with you right now" He turns back, diving directly into my eyes. I have never seen his gaze so... Disturbed. There was a storm inside his eyes, "I can't afford to be alone with you right now" He corrected himself.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused by his reaction. This shouldn't go this way, I dismissed his character, diverted from any romantic engagement. It shouldn't develop any more feelings.

"This is some weird shit" He laughs humorlessly, as if trying to escape from his tension, "But I believe you"

"It's fine" I reassure him, taking a step closer. My hand finds its way to his cheeks, and I can see the muscles on his neck pulling, determined not to allow him to indulge in my touch, "I won't ever choose you again" It's a promise to protect our friendship, but it doesn't set too well on him.

"That's not what..." He gulps down, taking my hand away from his face, "I don't want you to choose anyone else"

It's a confession, isn't it? Plain and clear, echoing in my room.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry, I..." I panic. My heart pounds inside my chest, reverberating all the way up to my throat, making my voice tremble, "It's just the game. Don't take it too seriously; it'll go away as I play—"

"It won't" His voice is unwavering, unlike mine. The turmoil in his eyes settles down; the calm after the storm. "My feelings for you... It wasn't the game. They were already there" He admits earnestly, with no armor to protect his feelings.

"No, no" It's my turn to laugh nervously, "You don't know what you're talking about. The game is playing tricks on you"

"Y/N," He says very seriously, holding both of my hands and bringing me closer, as if to convey the sincerity in his words, "I've always had feelings for you" Another confession. This doesn't make sense. That wasn't the path the game should be taking us, "I've never had the guts to face them, so I shoved them aside, pretending every single one of those feelings was nothing but a manifestation of friendship" Hyunjin's hands were slippery, or maybe that's me. Either way, I slip away from his grip.

"I don't believe you" I mutter under my breath, not strong enough to say anything above a whisper.

"Do you trust me?" He pleads the way I did before.

How can I say no to this?

"I do" The truth slips from my lips, falling with a thud between us.

"Then, let me show you" Another low blow. He knows how to sweep me off my feet.

With Hyunjin's words hanging in the air, the room seems to grow smaller, and the gap between our bodies diminishes until it fades away. On the other hand, my senses seem to expand, and every little thing becomes overwhelming. The way my emotions whirlwind, but refrain from unleashing, gusting inside my ribcage and shrinking my heart, which fights for its life, racing in a way it never did. The tick-tack of a clock in the back of her mind, or the back of my room, I can't tell. It counts the second to something that might tear my world apart. The way Hyunjin stands his ground, his expression sincere and vulnerable, his look lovingly enough to melt all of my worries away.

At some level, I realize I don't want it to be some game side effects.

"Hyunjin" My whisper breaks the silence like a screech. Both of us snap back to reality, and neither of us can face one another in this scenario, so I face the floor.

"Holy shit" He digs his fingers in my shoulders, and I can feel the way a shiver runs down his spine, making his body tremble, "When you call me by my name..." He takes a deep breath and lets it catch in his throat instead of finishing his sentence.

"Jinnie" I offer instead, and his hand finds its way to the back of my head. I shriek.

"Stop playing it, pause the game" He pleads, "It'll prove that my feelings have nothing to do with your choices" He places a kiss on my forehead.

"I've already tried" I admit, fighting my urge to be venturous, to explore everything unveiled before my eyes, to indulge in the practicality of letting him love me, to leave my problems behind, "But my life resets to the moment I played it for the first time. I'm trapped in a loop" There is a pain in my voice that he can't understand, but he can feel, so he hugs me thighter.

"So just choose me" It's a simple request, isn't it?

"Hyunjin..." I find the courage to look him in the eyes, and suddenly, I feel compelled to say: "I don't know if I love you that way. I can't simply put you through this. I'll keep choosing you and then what? We'll be married with two kids? When does it end? Do we want to end up together like this?" I feel like the words are gushing out my mouth, splattering like my feelings, but they're not. My speech is calm and composed, and it's so sober that Hyunjin steps back.

"I do" He admits, averting his eyes from mine. He knows that my answer wouldn't be the same as his, "But you have someone else in mind, don't you?" His tone isn't accusative, but the insinuation itself is.

"What do you mean?" I ask, confused by his antics. His arms slowly untangle from around me.

"You might have a crush on someone else, isn't that right?" His tone is bitter, catching me off guard. When I see his eyes fixed on the screen, everything comes together.

"Minho?!" I'm baffled. So much that I can't further elaborate on that, "I was choosing him just because! There's no deeper meaning in that"

"Yet, he's the first one you mention" He finally turns his gaze back to me, and I can see the hurt staining his eyes.

"Hyunjin, that's not..." But he doesn't let me finish.

"You know what?" He fakes a smile, shrugging as if the situation didn't matter after all, "You might be right. This all was just the game talking" He chuckles, gesturing for me to let it go, "I don't know where my mind was" his smile widens but it doesn't reach his eyes.

Hyunjin turns away, ready to leave my room.

"Wait, Hyunjin!" I rush to him, taking him by the hand. Hyunjin snatches it away with one wave of his arm, "That's not what's happening at all! I don't know who I like, I don't have a crush on any of you"

There is a single thought running through my mind: I don't wanna lose Hyunjin. I don't wanna lose Hyunjin. I don't wanna lose Hyunjin. It's hammering inside my head, giving me a migraine.

"You don't look good in white lies" He stops, his hand on the doorknob, "So don't lie to me, 'cuz our friendship always meant more than that" He doesn't turn back to look at me, but I know his eyes are tearing up, because his voice is breaking.

"I'm not lying" I pray for someone to make him understand.

"That's okay, Y/N" He mutters, turning the doorknob, "We're good friends. You didn't lose me"

But I did.

Each crackle my doorknob made as he opened the door felt like a bullet to my heart, all carrying the same message: I'm losing him, don't let him go! I'm losing him, don't let him go! I'm losing him, don't let him go!

Then, Hyunjin closes the door behind him.

I lost him.

I stood there, frozen in the middle of my room, as the sound of the closing door echoed in my ears like a ghost haunting my thoughts. My bedroom, which used to be a sanctuary of our friendship, was now reduced to crumbs and ashes, violated by something much greater than us. The room grew insufferably bigger until it felt emptier than it had ever been. My insides mimicked my surroundings, and tears welled up in my eyes as I missed Hyunjin's heat beside me. Suddenly, I miss the winter uniform again, although for different reasons.

I collapse onto my bed, feeling the weight of my feelings down on me along with the reality. Through my blurred vision, I stare at the screen, wondering why this game had happened to me. Finally, I allow my tears to flow, soaking my pillow, which muffles my wails.

Was it a bad ending? Did I screw up my friendship with Hyunjin? Should I stop playing and go back in time, reset all of this?

I wipe my tears away, looking back at the screen.

Chapter's 1 Reward Unlocked: First Confession!

Status: Bad Ver.

Jin can't stop thinking about what you said: You might like someone else. Was it Reno? Did that smug, insensitive guy conquer your heart in so little time? Jin can't let this happen! Snatching your heart is his only way to take you back. Did your heart flutter with his confession? He hopes so but knows better than to force you into this. Perhaps, he'll have another opportunity, when your heart belongs a little more to him and less to that prick Reno. But that depends on you. Who'll you choose next? The future is in your hands.

I stare blankly at the gleaming words.

Slowly but surely, small pieces of a puzzle start to connect inside my mind. There was no good outcome to follow up on my choice. All along, Hyunjin was supposed to be hurt by the possibility of me liking Minho. All along, there was no way you would connect on a deeper level because I was meant to lose points. It didn't matter how truthful our feelings were, or how kindly we tried to expose our views.

The future is in your hands.

Whatever my future was, it wasn't mine to take yet.

Not without conquering it in that damn game.

[earthnashes]

How do you keep up the motivation for working out? Or the planning of what exercises to do and go for? Asking cause I’ve been interested in weight training and tried it before but ya know- after 3 months, took a break, and now it’s hard to get back into it. Hope you don’t mind the questions! Congrats on your progress too!

I don't mind questions at all, no worries! :)

So I guess my answer to the question is to really evaluate why you're trying to get into weight training: What are your goals? Is it for the aesthetics? Is it because you wanna be strong, athletic? Is it a lifestyle you're willing to commit to?

I say ask yourself these questions and really evaluate what you want out of it, because I'll be honest: motivation is what got me started, but it isn't why I'm still at it. The bottom line to getting into weight training at any level in my opinion is to view it as a lifestyle commitment. Because it is; anyone can lift weights, for sure, but if you wanna make any meaningful progress in the gym you have to take it seriously.

As such, my one of my biggest tips in the motivation department: make weight training a non-negotiable component to your lifestyle. More than that, make your health a non-negotiable component to your lifestyle. Because fitness is a long game, one you will play for the rest of your life, so it must become a regular part of your life, however way you choose to make it so.

SO with all that said, some tips that could help you to stay consistent:

1.) Make a training plan. Figure out exactly what you're aiming for with your training program (are you training for strength or hypertrophy? Conditioning?), then select the training split (Fullbody | Upper Lower | Push Pull Legs | Bro Split) and exercises you're going to utilize to reach that goal (I recommend only selecting 4-6 exercises per workout. If you're doing more than that, unless you're an experienced and/or professional lifter, you're building unnecessary fatigue). Do your research here.

2.) Decide your training frequency. An extension to 1: once you've decided your training's purpose and the exercises that'll help you reach it, choose for how long this block will last. At minimum to see any sort of progress I recommend 4 weeks, but ideally something around 6-16 weeks for your training program to see substantial results is best. This is including the deloads (premeditated active rest periods), which is another thing entirely so I won't go into detail here.

Once you figure out how many weeks you're gonna go, plan how many days a week you're gonna go. Select specific days and times and treat it like it's mandatory. No matter how you're feeling or the weather or whatever, you're fuckin goin to that gym and getting the workout in. Be mindful of what your body is saying, but hold yourself accountable; don't make excuses.

3.) Have contingency plans. Let's say you've planned a training block for 5 days a week and you're going strong. But something at work comes up and it cuts your time much shorter. Instead of shrugging and going "Welp, can't go anymore I guess :/" try thinking "if I can't go 5 days, I'll go at least 4 days a week." Can't go 4 days? Go 3 days, so on. Backup plans for your backup plans. Learn to adapt to the challenges every day life brings you.

4.) Treat it like riding a bike. Weight training regardless of your goals is a long term game, and there are always gonna be ups and downs. There are gonna be times where it's hard to get back into it. Well, like falling off a bike, the best thing you can do to continue riding the bike is to get back on it. So get back on it. If you need to start slow again, then do it, because any step is still a step more than before. You'll gain momentum again, just give yourself some grace and patience.

5.) Trust the process. Because weight training is a long game, it's also a game of waiting. Visible progress is gonna take some time, so take inventory on other things to gauge it. Instead of looking at the scale or at the mirror, ask yourself how you feel. Do you feel more energized? How has your mood been lately? Do you feel a little more confident? Do you move easier? In the gym, are your numbers going up? Do the weights move easier? Do you feel focused and in the zone when in the pocket? Take inventory with yourself often and trust that you're making progress, even on days where it feels like you've stagnated.

----------

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand that's all I got! I hope that answers your questions! :)

[mbti-notes]

I'm an INTJ having a crush on an INFJ. Do you have any tips how to use my dominant Ni sharing on how to know her more/ at least be friends w her? She has a reputation amongst ppl that It's hard to know how she feels truly & what she says/ expresses doesn't necessarily express how she actually feels. Tbh, we've been "friends" for many years, but I don't even know If she actually sees me as her friend bc I heard that she struggles at trusting ppl. Thank you.

When you want to get to know someone, a tried-and-true method is to look for commonalities to bond over. It is especially important to FJs(Fe) to feel as though the both of you are on the same page emotionally and in agreement regarding important (moral) beliefs and values.

One good thing about FJs to keep in mind is they tend to be very forgiving as long as you can provide them a genuine, authentic, and humble explanation of yourself. If you help them see the situation accurately from your point of view, they'll be more willing to overlook any faults and flaws. This means you always have to be transparent and expressive enough to let them know what's really going on with you. If you leave them to guess too much, they're likely to jump to unfavorable conclusions in the absence of facts. There is a limit as to whether they can accept repeated mistakes though, because they tend to view those as lack of care and effort. I mention this point because INTJs tend to falter in relationships due to being too inexpressive or uncommunicative.

The best way to discover commonalities is through communication, so create opportunities to have substantive talks. INFJs will generally see you as a friend once they enjoy talking to you and look forward to talking to you, otherwise, you are just a person who exists like everyone else. As you probably know, Ni doms don't tend to enjoy small talk, so it's best to get to the main point and dig in to the meat of things as soon as is socially acceptable. INFJs are usually looking for meaningful conversation about topics of existential/societal/future importance. They usually like to hear new ideas that spark their creativity or broaden their perspective. They usually want someone to take an interest in what they are thinking, what they believe, and what they value... but on their terms, i.e., in ways that are respectful of personal boundaries. It might help to keep conversations abstract (non-personal) at the start because it gives you a chance to gauge their interest level and it gives them a way to gradually ease into deeper territory.

INFJs with trust issues might not be very forthcoming, so don't push them too hard when they block your advances, or else they might clam up completely. It's very important to be nonjudgmental and empathetic in order to create a safe space for them to express themselves authentically (since they fear rejection and betrayal). Be clear about your purpose/intention or else they might start to get suspicious of you. If you ever get the feeling that they are using a fake persona around you, it means they don't trust you and you have to do more to reassure them that your intentions are pure and you are a safe person to interact with. If at any point they feel as though you just can't understand them or you have been dismissive/judgmental of them, they'll start to believe talking to you isn't worthwhile and your chances of success will quickly drop to nil.

No matter the type, trust issues are a big relationship barrier. It is best to approach guarded people slowly, sensitively, patiently, and confidently. E.g.: You have to be the one to take the lead and initiate contact because they are too afraid to. You have to be the one to open up and ask more questions to keep conversations going because they are too self-involved to participate fully. You have to be the accommodating and understanding one because they cannot open up to you otherwise. You have to be the one to apologize first for relationship missteps because their social skills are too poor to handle conflict reasonably.

It doesn't sound very fun, does it? But it can be a very worthwhile and fulfilling process to help someone open up to love. That said, don't always put yourself in an unequal position of giving much more than you're getting in return. Give people plenty of chances to open up, but they have to eventually meet you halfway. When there's no willingness to meet you halfway, you might have to admit defeat and treat it as a lost cause. Remember, relationships can get very messy very quickly, so it's best to accept the fact and try to go with the flow. Venture out there, see what happens, and learn as you go. As long as you always try to act with integrity, you'll have nothing to regret.

[devsgames]

We Need To Talk About "Flow"

(This blog post originally from My Patreon. Please consider becoming a patron to support me and the games I make!)

The idea of "Flow" or the "Flow state" is one of those concepts that come up a lot in game design, most frequently by beginner designers who have recently learned what it is. I typically notice it tends to be thrown around as a benchmark of 'good' game design, or acts as an objective for game designers to design towards in their work. 

However I've always noticed that senior designers - myself included - don't really incorporate it all that much into the design process. I think there's a good reason for this; once you work on games for a stretch of time you start to see how the idea of 'flow' has a number of limitations that make it at best a useful experiential descriptor and at worst a muddy goalpost to meet.

I think there's a few reasons for this, but broadly I think it's largely because 'Flow' is not a useful lens through which to view your gameplay.

"Flow" is subjective between players

The obvious problem with flow is that it's tied to a player's psyche, and as we all know, everyone's got a different brain. Some players will meet flow states in high-intensity action-packed combat sessions, while some players will meet flow states by running around an island picking up fruit. The flow triggers aren't the same or overarching, which makes it hard to gauge what 'flow' means for different players.

No two players are alike in this regard, which necessitates narrowing down demographics for your game in order to hone in on which kind of player you're aiming to lock into a flow state in the first place, but even still you may find what creates a flow for some doesn't for others.

"Flow" is not a quantifiable metric

Flow as a concept cannot be easily quantified. We can't say 'if a player plays 15 hours then they're in flow' or 'if they complete 4 levels then they've got flow', and even a player's own perception about what the 'flow' is can vary. Coming to agreeable terms on what "Flow" for the player means can be difficult, especially as in some cases players could be in a flow state and not be able to realize it, which makes testing if a design has achieved some sort of 'flow' goal impossible. Since it's so nebulous to identify and varies between person to person it makes it difficult to incorporate 'Flow' into your conversations in a way that is meaningful.

"Flow" isn't a useful benchmark for a design goal

Since we can't really easily quantify or even 'prove' the flow state, it's difficult to create an achievable goal out of it. We can't say a goal for our gameplay is to "put the player in a flow state" because as we've established that 'flow' varies wildly from person to person and can't accurately be measured.

That means flow as a benchmark or goal for your gameplay in this way is useless, as its usefulness as a goalpost falls off completely once we realize there is no (and may never be) a commonly understood language for speaking to it.

To some extent stating 'flow' is a goal for your gameplay is roughly equivalent to saying a goal of your game is to be 'engaging' - it's such a broad and aimless statement that it might as well not be said at all.

That being said...

"Flow" is not, and should not always be, the goal

I think it's generally narrow-minded to assume or imply that the goal of every game is implicitly to maintain a flow state for extended periods of time. Not only at a fundamental level does that feel reductive to games in general, flow-breaking is also an important tool of design.

Sometimes games need to consciously break this state - dying in an action game and hitting a load screen, while disappointing, is often a necessary act of flow disruption that gives players a moment to recuperate themselves, just as abruptly breaking a narrative pattern in a horror game and distressing a player can act as a subversion that makes the experience more engaging. It's not necessarily maintaining the flow sate all the way through, but intentionally breaking it at times the player needs it.

So is "Flow" useless?!

No! Flow is often an excellent marker to tell if your design is working.

It's when a playtester says to themselves "just one more level". It's when you're bugtesting a build and notice yourself accidentally playing the game and having fun. It's when a player doesn't notice how much time has gone by because they're too enthralled by the experience. It's when you feel the 'tunnel vision' pulling you into the gameplay for a few moments. Flow is a momentary reassurance that means you're still moving things in a good direction because a player has been engaged, but it isn't the end-all-be-all of the game itself.

The issue, in my eyes, is when when Flow is thought of as metric rather than a smaller element of design in the puzzle of your game's overarching gameplay.

Do you want players to be in a flow state while playing your game? Sure, that's a safe bet! But if you start fixating on how your game is built around flow then you might find yourself hunting down an unachievable goal.

[moongurl95]

Chapter 3.5 – Take a deep breath as you walk through the doors...

“You can get almost anywhere in the castle quickly from Central Hall.” Beatrice swiftly glanced back at the Floo network she'd come out from, before hurrying after Professor Weasley. Along with Portkeys, she had also come across the concept of Floo Flames as another form of “transportation” in the Wizarding World. The mere idea of “harmless” flames surrounding her, was still very much a foreign experience to grasp, she had to begrudge them for their offered convenience though.

“Always something happening here. It's the heart of the hive. Our 'King's Cross station', so to speak.” It had crossed her mind why they hadn't taken the train to Hogwarts instead, though as her eyes settled on the moving mural of a dragon overhead, Beatrice deemed it best not to think about it any further.

“That should be all for now. You'll be expected to attend both Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts classes today. And I'd like to be sure you get to Hogsmeade this afternoon to replace the supplies you lost on the way here.”

“Thank you, Professor Weasley. You mentioned Hogsmeade, this afternoon?”

“Yes, you'll find that the first week for fifth-years is leniently scheduled to help ease the students in preparation for your O.W.L.s, not to say you are allowed to miss classes, but since you only have one first day at Hogwarts, it's best you make the most of it.”

Now that Professor Weasley mentioned it, Beatrice did wonder where she'd get a copy of her own class schedule, though it was pleasant to know she'd have the week to properly acclimatize herself to this new world filled with magic.

“You have much to learn from here on, so you must be made aware that your professors and I have agreed to create additional assignments for you outside of class. You'll be up to speed in no time. Your retention of terms will prove to be most useful and judging by your adept use of Revelio earlier, I'd say Professor Fig has also succeeded in showing you the basics?”

“He did, Professor.” Beatrice answered, thinking the conversation was a way to gauge what she'd already learned from before term.

“He's been terribly vague as to the events preceding your arrival— specifically, about what happened after that awful dragon attack. I suspect there's more to the story than a search for belongings and an extended trip up to Hogwarts?”

“I'm sorry, Professor, but I'm afraid that's all there is to it.” Beatrice almost caught herself into answering the exact opposite. Professor Weasley reminded her of the Mothers from the convent, they had a ways about them that just made one hesitate to lie but-- A promise made was a promise kept, and she'd be damned to go back on her word with Professor Fig. Past experiences had a way to shape a person, she'd learned that all too late.

“Hmm. Almost precisely what Professor Fig said.” A beat passed as Beatrice hoped her face didn't give anything away, before Professor Weasley's gaze focused elsewhere, “Speak of the devil. Professor Fig, your ears must have been burning.”

“Oh?” Came the only reply from Professor Fig as he stopped by them.

“Yes. You seem to have provided Ms. Hayes with a solid foundation in the basics of spell-casting.”

“Ah. I'm afraid I can't take all the credit there, Professor. Aside from her seemingly endless desire for learning, Ms. Hayes turned out to have a rare aptitude for magic as well.” Professor Fig remarked, casting her a quick, meaningful glance before continuing his banter with Professor Weasley.

“Well, I am glad you both arrived in one piece. Perfectly good boats and carriages to Hogwarts and I'm left to wonder how you happened upon the path of a dragon?”

“It's safe to say that it was no pure happenstance Professor. Rather, unfortunately, the dragon simply chose us.”

“Hmm. Very well. Though I feel there is more to discuss on this matter, I need to get to class myself. Might I rely on you, Professor Fig, to explain the details of the Field Guide's map?”

With Professor Fig agreeing to take over from here, Professor Weasley turned towards her for some final reminders, “Good luck today. Remember your Field Guide, it will be invaluable to you and my keeping track of your progress.”

“Yes, Professor.” Beatrice acquiesced.

“Come find me in my classroom before the lunch hour after you've attended both your classes this morning. I'll explain more about those assignments I've mentioned, as well as getting you to Hogsmeade for those supplies.”   

Beatrice kept the smile on her face as she watched Professor Weasley's retreating form, only when she’d headed out a big set of doors did Beatrice take in a breath of relief, catching up on the shallow breathing she had all throughout her “interrogation”.

“Here I was, just hoping to have a word with you before you've immersed yourself in your studies, only to come across you masterfully evading Professor Weasley's interrogation regarding our late arrival.”

“It's good to see you too, Professor Fig.” The two of them shared a short laugh before Beatrice voiced out regretfully, “I do feel deceptive though... That said, when would be the best chance to tell her?” It wasn't a matter of 'if' now that Beatrice was sure of Professor Weasley's suspicions of them not being entirely forthcoming.

“Yes, well-- as much as Professor Weasley is a brilliant and astute witch, I think it'll be best we keep the details to ourselves for now. This... path that only you can see may require a bit more-- flexibility-- with your time once the situation calls for it, and that's a prospect I know Matilda wouldn't approve of.” Professor Fig said direly, adding as an afterthought, “Also for reasons that she may feel obliged to share details with the Headmaster...”

“Understood, Professor.” She already knew that look on Professor Fig's face whenever he'd have hidden meanings behind his upfront words.

“Good. Now, as capable as you are, I believe the ability you possess obliges you to be well-trained, and what better way to start than by being well-prepared as well.” Professor Fig then handed her a piece of parchment to which she read her official class schedule once the week had settled. She'll definitely be dreading Mondays but would look forward to her allotted daily free time.

“Your free times are usually allotted for reviewing and extra study sessions for your O.W.L.s this year.” Beatrice caught her mentor's stern look as if you he already had an inkling as to what great exploration she had planned beyond the castle's walls. He could only shake his head in fond amusement as he continued, “Happily, if you show outstanding results in your classes on the daily, you might just be able to earn the benefit of the doubt from most of your professors, especially with how you spend your personal time.”

He gave her a subtle wink at that, motioning for them to head up the Central stairs as he spoke, “Now so that I may avoid another not-so-subtle reproof from Professor Weasley, unfold your Field Guide to the Hogwart's Map page so as to activate the 'guide'.”

Doing exactly as she was told, Beatrice stepped back in surprise as something golden popped out, blinking twice to see where it headed. “If you squint, you'll glimpse a hint of a 'golden thread' just floating ways ahead, courtesy of the Charmed Compass cast on your Field Guide.” She did as her mentor said and true enough, something gleamed over the bridge they were walking on as they made their way towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

“Clever enchantment, isn't it?” At Professor Fig's mildly amazed tone, Beatrice glanced back down at the opened map and noticed a purple arrow moving in the direction as she was. “The maps are enchanted to help you find your way— be it the castle, Hogsmeade or other parts of the Highlands as well-- you just have to use it wisely.” He raised a brow her way, causing her to smile cheekily, “This does seem incredibly useful, Professor.”

“Yes well, curiously enough, this is the first of its prototypes to be actively used, as Professor Weasley insisted it’ll be most useful for your special case. I may have a theory on its many uses, but for now, I advise you be careful on asking it for which places to seek. You never know where it could actually lead you.”

Beatrice pondered at that as they turned a right inside the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, hearing the swift ignition from a nearby Floo Flame just as she saw a corresponding symbol in her Field Guide light up in green. With raised eyebrows, she glanced at her mentor to check if he’d witnessed it as well, only to see him staring straight ahead as they neared the end of the corridor leading to a set of stairs.

This was definitely something she needed to study for herself, thumbing at a grey symbol wherein the Astronomy Tower came to her mind in a whisper.

“Sounds like you’ve quite the day ahead— what with classes and a trip to Hogsmeade for your supplies— most especially your own wand. You’ll enjoy Mr. Ollivander, he’s an exceptional craftsman and good friend.”

Glancing one last time at her Field Guide to confirm her classroom was indeed nearby, she then magically tucked the hardbound inside her school robes.

“I see that practicing your Extension Charm proved to be quite convenient?” Professor Fig asked with a tone of pride.

“It has, professor.” She smiled, especially please as they stopped on a floor with intricate tapestries draped on the walls.

“You’ll find me in my classroom, most days. It’s just at the end of this hall. And yours would be—”

“—just up these stairs. Right, Professor?” Still smiling as she pointed at the faint glowing thread from her guide.

“Right. Ready for your first day at Hogwarts?” He rubbed his hands together the same way as he’d asked her before the Sorting Ceremony last night.

“I’ve long since forgotten to dream about such a day. Can’t really believe I’m here…” She’d replied almost quietly.

“Well, you are here.” Professor Fig said warmly, “You only have one first day at Hogwarts. Make the most of it.”

Her smile returned at that, Beatrice knew he was trying his best to step up as her guardian at times instead of her mentor.

“I shall reach out when I have more information about our mysterious locket.” Professor Fig now said in a hushed tone, to which she nodded her acknowledgment. “For now, focus on your classes and pay attention.”

Beatrice had already accepted at this point that it was more than just her O.W.L.s that were at stake once it came to learning more about the Magic she inevitably possessed. She just first had to start with the basics.

next chapter ⤜⤏

[wintaerbaer]

Hihihi😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I've just binged all the chapters for the things we don't say and I am A MESS

My heart is in SHAMBLES

And I'm dying over the slowburn angst (whilst loving every single moment of it) and just KAKSKSKJFKSKGDKGJDKGKSKGLSLGKKG

That. That's how I've felt every single chapter. Over every single subtle but meaningful AND DEFINITELY INTENTIONAL wording of how the relationship between MC and Tae is described (I'M SEEING THEM ALL👀👀🥺🥺) AND JUST MY HEART H U R T S

It hurts for MC

But it WEEPS BLOOD for Tae and for how he's feeling seeing the person he loves most in the world hurt so so MUCH, how the memory of her crying in the bathroom H A U N T S him and he never wants to see it again but its BRANDED into his mind at the same time

The P A I N is ✨️agony✨️ and the angst just makes me feel ALL OVER THE PLACE

I think I've never (AND FOR A VERY LONG TIME) read such a well developed and extremely well written slowburn angst (ESPECIALLY WITH THE SILENT YEARNING 🥺😭) and I genuinely can't remember the last time I'd felt so many feeels, all at once until even in those small FEW MINUTE breaks I took in between the chapters had me JAKDJSKSJ and far too panicked and eager and wanting to read read read and MY HEART FEELS SORE AND BRUISED AND BROKEN

But for every chapter to come, for each drabble (and whilst I yearn and wait for them... your other works too) I'll be supporting and cheering your work on!!

Thank you for writing and sharing

My broken bleeding heart is yours to hurt for the rest of this story 🤧

(Could I please be added to the taglist for the story🥺?)

i don't even know where to start with this 😭😭😭

i must've sat here reading this twenty times through, fluctuating between wanting to cry and twirling my hair, kicking my feet 🥺 writing is a pain. it can be incredibly frustrating and drives me absolutely crazy (and it has lately). but this here makes it so, so worth it! and like GAH i just keep rereading what you wrote because it makes me so happy! especially because i so often find myself doubting the pacing of the story and the characters' feelings (it can be tough to gauge when i spend so much time sitting in it and bouncing all over the place), so this is truly wonderful to read.

i am very sorry to make your heart bleed (but i think it also means i'm doing something right? lol)! but hopefully we will be able to put you back together by the end like tae does for oc <3 thank you so so so so so so so so much for this. i'm going to be reading it over and over for days <3333 (and i've added you to the taglist!)

[limeade-l3sbian]

Hey. I don’t know if you remember me, but a few weeks ago I sent an anon to you where I was basically lamenting feeling worthless or something of that similar tone. That I was going to die of obesity and I saw no out of the end where someone would have to look at my dead body in disgust.

You came with some nice and encouraging words.(thanks for that btw again)

Today I was out for the first time in a long time. I was visiting the psychiatry department in my city, and had a scheduled taxi to collect me when I had to go home. When I got into the car and for 95% of the car ride, the taxi chauffeur was nice. He and I was talking about video games. Both coincidentally had an interest. It was a decently friendly time filler convo. However when the conversation naturally came to a halt, silence followed and he suddenly said, while I could see out of my peripheral view him looking me up and down with a smirk, “did you ever do sports? it certainly doesn’t seem like it”. It was such a blow to the stomach. I know men are gross and value women solely for our appearances, I know men are callous and most often incapable of being empathetic, but after such an otherwise nice convo, the knowledge that he had most likely been thinking “wow what a fat piece of shit she is” the whole time was so heartbreaking. I barely go out, I keep to myself, I’m not very confrontational, i was polite the whole drive. And yet, that’s what he said to me in the end.

This is why I feel hopeless. I always always be my body and I will always o my be offered respect by the vast majority of the world if i’m skinny and pretty.

Good to see you again, anon! 💜

I think maybe two weeks ago, I had a man swerve to the curb to drive along side me. I had my music in and was walking with my arizonas, so didn't respond since I was clearly occupied. But he kept following, leaning out. I glanced at one point to make sure he wasn't trying to be helpful but could hear what he was saying through my headphones. Including him cursing at me before finally driving off in his clown car.

Whether they're flirting, insulting, "negging", or just really talking in general, it's important to understand that men's words mean literally nothing. I can't describe to you how little they matter. How much are you thinking they mean? Well it's less than that and so on. Very often, I believe men have a word quota that they feel they must fulfill, and so terrorize the women around them with meaningless strings of sentences regarding what they prefer and how they feel about certain things. More often than not, unasked.

Men also don't cut their dogs' balls off as not to "emasculate" them. Is that a collection of people you want to listen to? These same people have convinced you that not being thin and not being pretty is a death sentence when it's not. I've been chubby my whole life and still had meaningful, loving relationships. You're absolutely right. You will always be in your body. You cannot change that. So you might as well start getting comfortable in there and figure out if you want the couch more to the left or more to the right because that's your home. Your headquarters where you can head back after a long day and plan your next scheme to _______ (whatever your schemes may be, we've all got em lol).

You can't keep gauging your worth on the opinions of others, babes. ESPECIALLY MEN, COME ON BESTIE. Doing that just about killed me, literally. I'm not saying it'll be overnight, but that dam of self doubt and disgust will break. You're gonna be staring at the wall and come to that crossroad, bc the way things are isn't sustainable.

Am I going to sink and let the void swallow and define me? Or pull back and say "fuck it" and tell the next male who can fix his lips to say some shit like that to me that he can go fuck himself?

Easier said than done, but trust me, I got there and you can too. 💜

[woundedheartwithin]

I'm kinda hoping that Tango Gameworks reforms under a new name outside of Bethesda/Microsoft with a good chunk of the employees. I know that would mean they wouldn't necessarily be able to work on past IPs. But the Evil Within games are reasonably well liked in terms of horror titles, I really loved Ghostwire Tokyo and Hi Fi Rush didn't necessarily sell badly - it just didn't happen to sell the same sort of numbers as say Call of Duty or something like that. In terms of a middling "AA" studio, they could do those games. They seemed to only be closed because they weren't selling AAA numbers on AA games. Those middle of the road games between Indie and AAA are important to.

I hear you, but unless Microsoft starts laying off Bethesda employees (which isn't unlikely but also isn't something I would wish on anyone), I just don't see it happening. At the end of the day, GWT and EW were both cult hits, and in the case of Ghostwire, as much as I truly adore that game and think everyone should play it, I feel like I'm maybe being a bit generous there. For Evil Within... yeah, it's really not that great of a game (though it was incredibly fun), and I think the only reason it actually did garner a cult following was because of Shinji Mikami. So at the end of the day, since the remaining Tango devs were dispersed within Bethesda, I don't see them risking relative job security without someone like Mikami at the helm, and he actually left Tango last year before shit hit the fan. I'm not sure if he has anything in the works, but who knows, maybe he'll come up with yet another new studio and poach some of his old employees from Bethesda

But Hi-Fi Rush... I'm pissed about that one specifically because it is honestly a case study in how fucked the industry is right now. Matt Booty literally said, right after nuking Tango, that Xbox needed more small, successful titles. This comes right on the heels of Starfield, a highly anticipated and expensive ass AAA Bethesda Game Studios title led by Todd Howard, fucking bombing, mind you (which lol. Lmao even)

long winded, rambling, barely coherent rant below the cut

Now, it's difficult to gauge success in the gaming industry these days because the metric is changing as major subscription services become popular, but we do have some promising numbers on Hi-Fi Rush that should have set an expectation on how titles produced by Tango might have performed beyond it. The old metric on judging the success of a game was to look at how many copies had been sold. Well, now that GamePass and services like it are a thing, folks aren't buying as many games because it is cheaper to just pay the subscription fee and get a bunch of games packaged in, so companies are now looking at number of players, as well

I wanna stop here and say that I am not an expert on this. I know a lot because I read a lot, but I'm not a consumer analyst and I'm not involved in the gaming industry in any meaningful way outside of being a consumer myself, so take all of this with a grain of salt

Anyway, let's look at Hi-Fi Rush's numbers. There aren't many concrete sources on this simply because Bethesda doesn't like to share their numbers unless they're staggering, but based on my cursory research, insiders and consumer analysts have estimated somewhere between 300,000 (Steam only) and 2 million (gross) copies sold. That's a huge discrepancy, and really not one that matters at the end of the day. It's unlikely that a great many people actually bought the game simply because there was no physical release (despite promises that one is coming), and the game was listed on GamePass the same day. Why pay $30 for one digital game when you can pay like $20 a month and get a bunch of digital games including Hi-Fi Rush (aside from the obvious downside of when it's inevitably rotated out and you can't play it anymore, but y'know)? People love to feel like they're making a good deal. But if you look at the number of players the game boasts total, it's a whopping 3 million, and that is confirmed. The current average number of players for the last 30 days according to Steam Charts (which we'll assume is roughly half of the player base) was 362 players, with the peak being 974. The all time peak for players at one time for Steam players was 6,043. Not fucking bad for a small game made by a niche studio that had little to no commercial campaigning, and that's just on one platform. I couldn't find any concrete numbers on the Xbox player base, but if we assume, again, that Steam makes up roughly half of Hi-Fi Rush players, then we see some impressive numbers.

So yeah, Matt Booty's right, Xbox, and indeed the entire gaming industry, needs small, quality titles made by small, dedicated dev teams. That's the heart and soul of the industry, and with the closure of so many subsidiary studios under BethSoft and Microsoft, we're losing that. And a lot of that is hinging on Microsoft's insistence on holding onto permanent exclusive titles, despite both Sony and Nintendo loosening their stance on the same in recent years. Because exclusive titles that never release outside of the platform it was made for simply don't make as much money as cross platform titles by their very nature, and this strangles small studios.

For instance, let's look at Starfield. Starfield, which was highly anticipated since it was announced back in 2018, is a hilarious example of how big a fucking mistake it was for Microsoft to buy Bethesda (which I think they're learning). First of all, Bethesda has never been a good company. Their games are fun simply because they're broken as hell and oddly charming, and that makes them actually kinda good. But Starfield was literally billed as "Skyrim in space" since day one (seriously, Todd really said that). They spent a fuckton of money and time on this game and ended up with a piece of shit that had all the graphical errors of a BGS Elder Scrolls game or Fallout game and literally zero of the charm. And it's numbers, considering it is a AAA title developed by Bethesda's main studio, are abysmal.

Let's look at sales first. Now remember, this game DID get a physical release. Bethesda has not released the numbers on number of copies sold, but consumer analysts project about 2.5 million copies sold gross. Remember, analysts projected Hi-Fi Rush sold 2 million gross. Obviously the total player count is going to look very different from Hi-Fi Rush's because the game is more accessible and more well-known by virtue of being a AAA title. Starfield's player count for the last 30 days averaged 7,386, with the peak being 14,258, and an all time peak of 330,597. Again, these are Steam numbers only. I couldn't find a total player count. Since it's not fair to compare a AAA title to a small studio game, let's compare it to one of Bethesda's own blockbusters, indeed their most successful title to date: Fallout 4

So we all generally agree that Fallout 4 sucks, especially compared to previous installments, but it is a fun game and it performed extremely well. It's also not quite as overrated as Skyrim is (much as I love both, and I truly do, they both are overrated and terrible, I mean FO4 even has a tv adaptation now, which has probably skewed current numbers but y'know), and hasn't been rereleased a billion times over three generations of consoles, so I think it makes a decent point of comparison for a game the Toddster claimed would be Skyrim in space. Hey, if you're gonna make a claim like that, we might as well put it through its paces, right?

lmfao

Last Sunday, there were a grand total of 11,185 Starfield players, a game that isn't even a year old yet. It was outclassed by Fallout 4, a nine year old game, at 37,963 players. That's fucking hilarious.

Now let's look at Fallout 4's numbers. Fallout 4 sold 12 million copies in the first 24 hours after release, and has gone on to sell 25 million copies. For it's player count, according to Steam Charts, last 30 day average was 28,690 with a peak of 52,978, and an all time peak of 471,955.

Just for comparison's sake, let's look at Skyrim. Skyrim sold 7 million copies in the first week of release, with a total of about 60 million copies sold since 2011. For player count, according to Steam Charts, last 30 day average was 17,205 with a peak of 27,296, and an all time peak of 69,777

Here's that handy little comparison chart with Skyrim added

Like that's just embarrassing. But yeah, Bethesda was such a great acquirement wasn't it, Microsoft???

And before anyone says this isn't fair because Starfield's player base was reduced thanks to exclusivity, that's the fucking point, isn't it? Literally they are digging this grave themselves. They bought Bethesda because Skyrim is a so-called 10 year game and they thought they'd make a bunch of money and get to say they own one of the most well known studios in the industry, then cut their player base literally in half and expected Skyrim in space to do numbers

The point is, exclusivity obviously does large studios no favors, but it straight up destroys small studios, and we've seen that with Tango and Arcane. They never had a chance because this was always going to happen. Microsoft acquired a publisher because of its success and then willfully took away the exact thing that made it successful, and then they were surprised when they were no longer successful. And this is a bad environment for developers these days because job security is nonexistent, big publishers are choking their studios by imposing arbitrary deadlines on games that already don't have adequate budgets and then laying off employees before release so that they make more money (looking at you, Bioware and Rockstar), so I'd imagine forging on to create a new studio is the last thing on most developers' minds. They're gonna keep their heads down and hope they don't end up in the same boat as the Dragon Age devs, and the RDR2 devs before them, and countless others. The only way we'll see folks bailing is if they have the opportunity to follow a name that has enough clout to keep them safe, like Mikami. And that fucking sucks because it's such a waste of talent, and it's completely unfair to everyone involved. And like, it puts even big studios and publishers like Bethesda in danger, too, though I'd be willing to bet Bethesda will pull up stakes and leave long before Microsoft drives them totally into the ground. Todd Howard is many things, but he's not stupid.

So TLDR, the whole situation is fucked and I hate it :(

[blaiddfailcam]

how are you feeling about the dlc lore as a whole?

Hm, I don't actually know just yet. I may need time to mull it over, but as it stands, I can't help feeling like it's a bit... disjointed from the existing narrative. Kind of like Filianore in DS3, but even harder to gauge chronologically.

[Spoilers ahead]

I actually find all the reveals about Miquella, Malenia, Mohg, and Radahn pretty neat. It feels clear this was the drama that was at the core of the story from the beginning, and there are so many fucked up layers to it all that make my brain buzz, hehe. St. Trina was a neat reveal too, and I feel helps to make some sense of the cosmology of Empyreans and "twin souls," like Marika and Radagon. Or rather, it seems to reiterate what I suspected, that they don't inherit one body (normally). The Carian lore was surprisingly satisfying to me, even if fairly scant. I loved the Finger Lore and the implications for how it ties into the Nox and to Ranni (and even Blaidd!!). That was perhaps my favorite aspect of the DLC's lore, oddly.

As for what I didn't like so much... Everything about Marika and Messmer felt extremely disjointed. It feels like he wasn't as big of a secret to the Lands Between as he was to players for the past couple years, which makes his reveal read less like uncovering the dark history of the world and more like they simply cut him from the main story very abruptly. As for Marika, the ambiguity feels like all it will do is inspire really boring theories everyone will accept as gospel truth, which is always kind of annoying. The Shaman Village thing is beautiful and all, but doesn't really strike me as... a meaningful addition? Is this the land of Numen? Was Marika just a bumpkin all along? There are so many lingering questions that go altogether ignored, and the lack of effect on base game characters and dialogue just further conveys how utterly inconsequential our little trip to the realm of shadow is. (For real, if it's supposed to be where all manner of death winds up and is secreted away, WHY WAS THE RUNE OF DEATH NOT SEALED THERE?)

Obv I still find it a tremendously good expansion, but it feels like they tried a little too hard to be cryptic and to subvert the expectations they'd built up that it winds up falling short of other Souls DLCs imo. I don't demand concrete answers or anything, but I wish it felt more consistent with the chronology and clash of cultures and theologies we'd been introduced to initially. It's hard to believe we have barely anything about the Godskins besides a vague allusion to Dominula... Ah well.

Maybe AC6's characters and story set my expectations too high, lol.

[sincerely-krp]

Former admin here! As someone who likes admin work and organizing a community, the hardest part to deal with was the lack of communication. I would reach out to my community to only be greeted with silence. I held polls to gauge interest in groups, activities, and event ideas. I held polls to schedule hyperbeam sessions and game nights. I created multiple opportunities to hear back from my community, wanting to learn more about what they liked and didn't like, wanted to see more of and less of...

Radio silence hurts.

The thing about rp communities is that you're supposed to meet the admin halfway. An admin is only as strong and motivated as their community is. I can't begin to express how many times I've held a hyperbeam session in response to my community's interests and wants to only end up by myself or even game nights where nobody showed up. I wrote out events to only end up being the only one participating.

What was even worse were the constant "in character" comments in group chats about the place being quiet and how there was "nothing to do" and "no one to talk too." Meanwhile, I'm pouring my heart out into making activities and checking in on everyone. I would sacrifice my own interests just to engage the community with my muse. We had an event for Valentine's Day and I wrote out a card for each and every one of my members just to never hear anything back. I was the only one who participated and I wanted to desperately show everyone that there was life and engagement!

I was a very honest admin to the point that I would openly express my concerns about the state of the RP and would ask my community to please help turn things around. I would see countless reactions but not a lick of anything else. I asked for feedback and did my best to meet the needs and wants that came and went; disheartened when the very same people who expressed interest never engaged with the groups and activities they asked for!

I thought I knew what the rp community wanted in a group but now? I don't know what the hell any of you want out of a group or your admin. You seek immediate gratification, unwilling to put in the work to create and cultivate something meaningful and worth keeping around. It's take two to make an rp community work, you know?

Admins are severely underappreciated in the krp community. They're taken for granted and drained until they have nothing left to give.

I cried when I closed down my last krp group. I had to for the sake of my own sanity and desire to write. I would love to open up another one but... now I just feel like I can never do anything right by you. Like no matter what I do it's never going to be enough to keep you happy or engaged.

I don't want to put my heart into something to only be ignored again.

・❥・

[amstories]

Newsletter #14: October 2023

Dear RNAs,

It's been a while since I've written a newsletter. Seasons are changing so fast so here's a summary of my highlights and milestones for the past months.

Wattpad Ambs Update

Ardor

Ficlet Fridays S04

Inkspired Inktober

Wattpad Ambs Update

In case you missed it, I'm no longer a part of the Ambassadors Program since August. After evaluating my circumstances and busy schedule, I know that I can no longer commit to being an ambassador in Wattpad. Being a part of this program taught me a lot. Here are the few things I learned from Wattpad Ambs:

Never underestimate the value of meaningful conversation for your well-being.

Be aware of what you're saying, and how it could perhaps be misinterpreted.

Take a breather if something you are reading is annoying or angering you.

Volunteers do not necessarily have the time; they have the heart!

The heart of a volunteer is never measured in size, but by the depth of the commitment to make a difference in the lives of others.

And lastly, "Be kind, always." Wattpad Ambs taught me to always look at another online user as another human behind that account. Whatever they might do or say, that account is being handled by another human who has feelings or a circumstance that we know nothing about. That's why it's important to always be kind.

I'm grateful for the work that every Wattpad Ambassador is putting out there, whether seen or unseen by the Wattpad community. You, guys, are awesome!

For those who wants to join the Ambs program, I highly recommend it only if you love to serve the Wattpad community and reading (because you'll do lots of it).

Ardor

Whenever I think of it, I still can't believe it happened. Last MIBF, Ardor was launched and I had my very first book signing. Crazy!

Ardor is an anthology of 21 short stories about love. The title means a strong, intense feeling of love. This is KPub PH's first anthology book project and I'm extremely grateful to be a part of this.

To be able to publish one of my stories is already a miracle, but to be able to have my first book signing in MIBF is even more than my wildest dreams. Publishing a book was never the goal for me. I was already content in writing stories and sharing them on my online platforms.

So I wanted to thank you, my RNAs, for reading my stories. Every support you give goes a long way already, whether it be just reading, commenting, or sharing any post I make. Thank you also for those who already got a copy for themselves. By buying one, you're also supporting 20 other writers. I hope you read theirs, too! Special shoutout to KPub PH who has been so accommodating to me, whether online or in person. I'm deeply grateful that you have chosen my story from the hundreds who submitted their manuscripts. Thank you for being an avenue for me to experience such a miracle as this.

Ficlet Fridays S04

As you may have observed, I stopped posting ficlets since July. I'm officially ending Ficlet Fridays S04. I apologize for those who were waiting for the JenJer ficlets. They are still in my drafts pero iipunin ko muna sila. The main reason why I challenged myself to post a ficlet every Friday this year is to see how far could I commit myself to post regularly.

Since I'm still a student and a person who has different other responsibilities, this challenge became my gauge as to how I can be present as a writer while juggling different roles in my life. I'm doing another writing challenge, Inspired Inktober, to help me start writing about what I really want. It just wouldn't make sense for me to continue writing S04 when there's S05 already.

No worries. My remaining ficlet drafts from S04 would see the light someday.

Ficlet Fridays S05: Inkspired Inktober

For the past months, God has been dealing with me my creative calling. He has continued to affirm that He was the one who placed that desire and dream for me to pursue creatives. One of the ways my creative calling has been manifested is through the stories I create. As a daughter of the Creator, God has given me the gift to create through words and writing. And I just know that I ought to use that gift to reflect God's character and to tell God's story well.

Having a Christian creative community also encouraged and pushed me to pursue this calling. Over time, I became more intentional in the things I write. I also began to reflect and review on the things I've wrote before. So don't be surprised if I begin to unpublish certain stories on my profile.

One of the things that I wanted to do to grow in my creativity is to join Indie Beginning's Inspired Inktober for Christian creatives. Since there are no rules about mediums, interpretations, number of prompts you follow, or how often you'll create, I'll proceed with writing ficlets.

In the ficlets you'll read for Inkspired Inktober, you may expect new characters I might introduce in the (far) future. But for me, these characters have been sitting at the corner of my mind, waiting to be introduced to the world. One day, I'll share their entire stories to the world. But for now, all I could offer are ficlets--only fragments of who they are. And I'm stoked to share them to you!

Don't worry. I might also write about familiar characters you know, depending on the prompt given.

As you journey with me this Inktober, my prayer is that you would encounter God somehow in the ficlets I write.

Thank you for being a part of my creative journey. It's a privilege and an honor for you to allow me to enter your world as you enter mine.

nagkukwento, AM