#and we got used for 15k less

[camryemerald]

thinking about how utterly stupid and redundant the chevrolet suburban is. like what valid use-case does it even serve?

hauling goods? nope, panel vans and pickup trucks do it better for a fraction of the starting price

hauling passengers? nope, minivans are a hell of a lot better at that (though, conveniently, chevy doesn't offer any), and smaller crossovers do the job fine as well

passengers and goods? putting aside the fact you could easily load the same things into a suburban that you could put in a minivan, getting both van and truck would still probably cost less for the same comfort features

low income families who want both? hard nope, it starts at $60k

it's painfully obvious the only reason chevy still makes the thing is so self-absorbed rich people can destroy our roads for their own egos and chevy can profit from it

[calocreek]

OK here it is, a ton of 'production' stuff for the Hot Guy Comic Zine! I've never been part of a project like this. Even though I was working on my comic mostly solo (shout-out to my editor Violet!), the world-building and story arc planning was completely collaborative. For example:

We started out on the world-building by voting on character's superpowers! Plenty of powers were almost unanimously agreed on, but Cuteguy was a HUGE campaign. We were pretty much 50/50 split between can fly/can't fly. Propaganda was exchanged LOL, like this piece where I campaigned for limited flying capabilities 😂 And thats what we ended up settling on!

From there we worked on a ton of brainstorming/world-building that I mostly spectated with an occasional doodle like these haha. I'm new to such elaborate AUs!

Pitch time!! I had pitches for each era and they were all pretty light and banter-y, so my year 1 pitch ended up fitting the vibe the best. My original pitch was 'HG + CG learn some key things about each other and plan to set up a base they can use together.' But when I started my script, I got really caught up in how they were navigating a partnership without knowing each others identities. The more I wrote through that, the more I wanted my story to be ABOUT that! So thats where my script started coming together.

Designs! I'm definitely not a confident costume designer. I was trying to go for low-tech + practical since it was early in their careers, and of course, easy to draw 😂

Process went more or less like this! Full color comics take a LONG TIME but it was a total labor of love. I had the graffiti bgs in mind from the very start since I knew it was dialogue heavy, I wanted to make sure the art was interesting and worth spending time looking at. Oh lord did I get carried away. I'm OBSESSED with the symbolism the fandom has put to the life series and so I tried to sneak in as much meaningful symbolism as possible. AND THE RESULT:

Guess I did pretty well! 😂😂😂

Anyway, I can't overstate how proud I feel to have gotten to work on this project. My whole goal as a hobbyist is to get to work with other artists I look up to and respect so this was a dream come true! Thank you everyone for reading, for 15k downloads (!!!), and for just being an awesomely creative fandom space to make art in! I hope to do more stuff like this again some day 💕

[foxyaries]

My Manifestations

Hi Again! Foxy here :)

Now keep in mind these aren't manifestations I have gotten YET but they have been my main focus throughout all these years that I've been part this community. I know a lot of you would rather hear about things I have actually manifested but the reason I'm gonna talk about them a bit is because these are the ones that actually kept me motivated despite my lack of results or current circumstances.

As for how my journey began? It was subliminals :) Probably as for most people in this community at first I didn't really understand it. I didn't try to look into it or understand it. Because of course as most people I assumed that it was just music. It's funny to think about it, knowing what I know now. It was a first limiting belief that I realized that I noticed I had. Since we were kids we were always conditioned to believe that we had to work hard to achieve things we want and success. But that's not true. And that's what I realized when one day subliminals came across my feed once again and I realized why not look into it? The more I read about it the more I realized that maybe it is possible. I mean we only use very small part of our brain so why wouldn't it be a possibility? Like I like to say "If there's an idea, there is a possibility of it being true". And that's how I discovered it.

What did I want to manifest first?

Unfortunately back then I was very insecure. And I'd brutally pick on any flaws I thought I had, so my first subliminals were appearance related. However at that time I also was very unhappy not just with my looks but also my life. Mainly my family. As some of you may relate I had (and still have but maybe not as much because I am older) very strict parents and especially because I am a girl it felt like my only goal in life was to study but going out and having fun with friends out of question. And it got especially worse because we had just moved to a different country and I needed to learn a new language and find new friends (you can imagine how that felt for my introvert incredibly social awkward self😂). And because of that reason alone one day I thought "If there are so many subliminals appearance related? I wonder if there's different kind". First thing that came up was "Wake up in desired family" subliminal. And you guys don't even understand. Back then our community was pretty small so all it had was maybe 15k views but at that time it looked like a lot. There were even that many comments or success stories because everyone were considerably new to the idea. But on this specific subliminal there were maybe 5 success stories. All very similar. One day they went to sleep, felt like they went flying and then woke up in their desired family. Again at that time I didn't really understand the concept but those 5 success stories made me so full of hope?? Each of those people said it took them like 2-3 months so that's the time I set for myself in my head too and guess what :) I indeed achieved certain crazy results I'm gonna talk about in a separate post.

Unfortunately for me... as I mentioned before I was insecure. So those couple months I was focusing on leaving and waking up in my desired life (again I didn't know much about the whole shifting idea or exactly what it was but maybe that's what helped :) The less we know the better). Aaaaand of course I got insecure and decided to start listening to appearances subliminals at the same time and that set some kind of mental block that I'm only now starting to get out of. I dont think me listening to those subliminals is what stopped me from getting any results. It was my mindset. However once I realized that it was too late and I had no motivation to restart the journey :( Such a shame now because I was so so close but it's okay now.

Before anyone asks I did try looking for that subliminal channel and those subliminals. Unfortunately I believe the whole account got deleted.

Now onto the 2nd thing. Once I realized my mistake I stopped listening to appearance subliminals and decided to try something else. I came up to a "Manifest a fairy" subliminal :) Yes, say what you want. Like I said "if there's an idea, there's a possibility". For all I care, unicorns could be real and I am open to it :). And yes, my fairy would have been and will be a wish granting fairy. I saw her as a solution to all of my problems. Not only mine but my best friends. And thanks to my best friend and her spiritual companion I was told that it would actually happen! That I'd one day see my fairy :). However, how soon it'd happen depended on me. It could have taken days, weeks, months or even years but it all depended on my mindset. And here we are 6 years later because I went through another dark episode of my life. But it's gonna happen soon I feel it! More about my best friend and future life time fairy friend on a separate post! Because yes, I had certain results even with that👀

I do hope someone will be interested in some of this cause this does boost my motivation somehow haha

That's all for now tho! I'll try to make a post later tonight about my tape results the other night! Next attempt is tonight😌 And whether anyone is interested or not I shall make another about my first insane shifting results too! 👀👋🏻

[dronarryfest]

Here we are on week two of Dronarry Fest 24! We've had some incredible works this week. Here's a roundup of everything from week 2 (last week's post can be found here). Thank you to all of our wonderful readers for commenting and kudos-ing - keep them coming! We've got one more wonderful week of works to share with you from Monday onwards! Until then, why not stick the kettle on and catch up on what you've missed...

[FIC] The Favourite || E || 17k || by @mallstars

On a throne of glitzing clutter, Draco Malfoy sits like a degenerate prince. His robes are the colour of sour champagne, celestial patterns stitched across the sweeping silk where it drapes over sharp shoulders and cradles a spindly waist. A rain of glitter dangles from one of his ears, and his expression is nauseating. The curl of his lip, the upturn of his pompous nose. Draco is a criminal. Harry and Ron are the Aurors who arrest him.

💭 absurdly hot- horribly hot? hotly horrible? perfect - garagepaperback

💭 holy moly this just drips with atmosphere and tension and its glorious... i love love love this fucked up dynamic thats also so sweet and human and morally ambiguous and hot - littlepocketbattleship

[FIC] Nightswimming || M || 5k || by @sweet-s0rr0w

Weasley flicks the light on. “I got off with a guy once, you know,” he says, casually, holding the torch up between his gloved fingers. “What?” says Draco, glancing over sharply. “No, you didn’t.” “I did,” Weasley insists, and there’s an air of mischief about him now. “Just after the divorce.” Draco tightens his grip on the steering wheel and wills his eyes to stay on the road, a dozen different scenarios playing out vivid in his mind. “But Harry’s never—” “Yeah, well.” Weasley clicks the torch back off. “Turns out Harry and I don’t share everything, after all.”

💭 This was wonderful!! The tension, next level 🔥🔥🔥 and I love how Harry is such a big part of this even though he's not physically there. So clever! - lemonlimelea

💭 What a feast - the prose, the dialogue, the teasing curiosity morphing into irresistible want, the clever and careful character development underneath it all. Everything so masterfully crafted and scorching hot I could feel my cheeks burning and they haven’t even kissed. What the fuck. I’m entranced still 🥵 - sitp

[FIC] Welcome, Peasants || E || 15k || by @fluxweeed

Ron was doing Draco a favour by agreeing to investigate him. Better Ron than someone who’d plant something horrific to get Draco sent to Azkaban—or some pervy Potter fanatic who’d spend the whole hour sniffing the dirty clothes on Harry’s bedroom floor. Even though Ron had to take Polyjuice and break into their flat to do it, Harry and Draco would understand. They’d appreciate it. And if Ron had done more “investigating” and less “snogging his best friend while Polyjuiced as said best friend’s secret boyfriend”, maybe it would have all been fine.

💭 Love the dynamics between the three of them - and the reveal that Ron caused Harry and Draco to get together was so unexpected and absolute perfection! Hot and amazing as always, I’m so delighted you choose to share these with us. ❤️ - rainstormradish

💭 I absolutely love that Ron is so absolutely bad at it that they clock him immediately, leaving him with his squirmy, guilty, horny feelings as they rightly should. Perfect interplay of the three of them. Yes! Yes! yes! (One for each of them). - skeptique

[FIC] Careless || E || 2k || by @piximera

They hadn't seen anyone in weeks, making them a little careless about the protective charms. Unfortunately for once they really fucked up, leaving them in the clutches of six Death Eaters. Being caught was bad enough, but then Scabior forces Draco into raping Harry in front of them before the Dark Lord arrives.

💭 HOLY SHIT this WAS dirtyhotwrong for sure! 🔥🔥🔥 Wow. Fantastic job, and thanks so much for the gift 🥰 - Schmem_14

💭 This is so dark and angsty, love seeing this take on the pairing. Thank you!!! - oknowkiss

[FIC] Dick Chicken || E || 14k || by @oknowkiss

This is a story about nothing.

💭 HOW DO YOU DO IT?! Can I climb inside your brain and live there?! God this was so goddamn amazing. I just love it more than I can say. - nv-md

💭 oh my ever-wanking LAMB this was too brilliant. i am going to die of having read this fic. it is simultaneously too funny (in honor of the source material) and too hot (not at all in honor of the source material). - elskan_ellis

[ataleofcrowns]

Chapter 11 Progress [14/MAY]

Hey everyone, it's been a minute since my last update on the blog!! Happy mother's day to all the moms out there 💖

By the time of writing this, I have 40k words written for CH11, and I am both happy and mildly horrified to report that CH11 is looking up to be the biggest chapter yet by a mile. It's very likely the total word count will break through 90k words, primarily due to the LI routes.

First, I've finished the first draft for X's route for CH11 and am mildly exasperated by my inability to properly estimate how long these sections will be.

I thought it would amount to 10k at most, but X's route ended up with 18k words. This is mostly due to all the Imperial Court variations in their opening scene, because I'm a masochist. A single playthrough of X's route is more like 14k words, though, depending on the variations you get.

I'm also close to finishing R's route and have 8k words written for it so far. Their and A's routes will be a little less in word count, since they got more content in CH10, but they'll both likely still be 10-12k words. D's will likely be closer to X's route in word count, around 14-15k.

Altogether, this chapter's LI routes alone will likely be close to 60k for all four. So that leaves the rest of the 30k for the main plot, which I haven't started yet. I literally only have words written for R and X, as well as bits and snippets for A and D so far lol.

Please pray for me so that I can release this chapter in July and give you all a summer miracle 🙏🏼

Anyway, enough about the word count!! I've got some preview posting to catch up to, so beneath the cut you'll find various snippets for X and R's routes in CH11 that were posted on the Patreon.

Hopefully I'll be able to post some for A and D soon as well, once I dig into their routes in the coming weeks.

Here's a small preview of a bit you might see occur across all LI routes, though it still depends on who is appointed to your Imperial Court (and the Lord Samal referenced here is specific to X's route as well):

“Chief Minister, is this allowed? There must be procedure for the appointment of officials—” “It is all at the Crown’s discretion,” Chief Minister Karwan states simply, turning away from the representative again to face forward instead. “But this is highly unusual!” The Minister breathes an exasperated sigh. “Oh, quiet down! Were you not using the same technicalities to get your way a moment ago, you insolent dog?” “Do not speak to me that way!” Lord Samal erupts. “I serve Mîr Behram!” “And I was already serving the Crowns of this Empire when your master was still suckling at the teat!” the Chief Minister snaps. “Now be a good boy and come to heel, we have many more matters to discuss.”

Here's a preview for X's route:

“Why do you have that dagger?” You turn to look at $aname, taken aback by how stunned $athey appears. “$xname gave it to me.” “$cxthey gave it to you?” $aname repeats incredulously, glancing back down at the dagger in your hands. “Did $xthey tell you who it originally belonged to?” “It belonged to someone else?” You assumed $xname was the only one who owned it, but looking at it again, you can notice subtle wear and tear despite its well-cared-for state. Little scratches along its sheath, the edges of pearl looking a little worn along the handle. “Whose was it?” “$cxtheir mother’s.” Your fingers tighten around its sheath in shock, then twitch with the urge to put it away. “$cxtheir mother’s? Why would…” You look down at the dagger in complete disbelief. “Why would $xthey give it to me?”

And finally, here's a preview for R's route:

Your hands reach for $rthem, but then halt and hover in mid-air, uncertain of whether you should even touch $rthem while $rthey’s in this state. “It’s alright,” Perjin speaks quietly from beside you. “You can hold $rtheir hand, if you wish. Your magic won’t cause any problems.”  You take a slow, deep breath, calming yourself as you sit down on the edge of the bed and gently take $rname’s hand in yours. “$crtheir fingers are cold.” Alarmed, you rub $rtheir hand, feeling how clammy and cool $rtheir skin is. You turn to Perjin. “Why does $rthey feel cold? What’s happening to $rthem?” 

That was it for this update ✨

I’m posting further updates and CH11 previews on the Patreon for all tiers, as well as all sorts of fun extra LI/Crown snippets, so if you’d like more AToC content while you wait for CH11, consider pledging!!

As always, thanks so much for your patience and support 💖

[pennedinblood]

thank youuuu @cringefailvox for the tag :) <333 haven't had a chance to write much this week but!! here's a snippet from Romantic Homicide— not the next chapter, but in fact the one after that :3 (yes i'm two chapters/15k+ words ahead. no i have not posted squat. we don't talk about it)

“I mean, you seemed pretty peeved the last time.” Peeved is putting it lightly; the man would not stop complaining about having to drag his sorry ass three fucking blocks, as if it’s even an inconvenience for someone that can dip in and out of shadows on a whim. Vox ducks his head a little beneath the crimson canopy, antennas flopping forward like coiled springs.   “Oh.” Alastor raises the umbrella, the gentleman that he is. “Perhaps I have been a little harsh on the matter.”  “Maybe,” Vox admits. “But I can’t rely on you for everything, Al.” His mind wanders to the stack of sheets that once sat on the coffee table in his apartment, carefully bound and ready. A divisive proposal, in more ways than one. Vox tacks on a laugh, hopes it veils his discomfort. “Sooner or later, a bird’s gotta leave the nest.”  “Well, it's a good thing you’re a picture box, then, isn’t it?” “Ha ha.”  Beside him, Alastor slows. He squints through the haze of rain and out toward the edge of the street, a funny look crossing his features. “Tell me something. Why didn’t you use the powerlines? There are more than enough around.” Vox's heart lurches. Within the incomprehensible void that passes for his mouth, a sandpapered-tongue scrabbles to find purchase on words. “Ah, you know.” Vox waves a flimsy hand, fooling no one. “I figured ruining your night would be more fun. I barely had to try, and look!” He leans in with a grin, encroaching further on the small space between them, the smallest sliver of dry land in a storm. “I’ve got my own personal escort! And it’s the Radio Demon, no less.” “Lot of blabber for someone near tears on the telephone earlier.”

@toastervox @henchy5824 @lunchtimebedamned1997 (only if yall want to!!:DD) & @ anyone else feel free to join, love seeing wips :)

[deluxewhump]

The Scry

Ch 11: Call If You'd Like Help

Prev

CW: whumpee with powers, human trafficking, forced labor

In the weeks following his return to Max Kelly, Spartan left them more or less alone. Whenever Carlo would get overly involved in the numbers they were putting up, or stress about their position on a leaderboard, Max would gently redirect him. He had the account under control, their numbers were steady, their position as a team solid. 

He said this so Carlo would focus on his own wellbeing, but it sometimes made him feel less useful than he liked. Being needed was safety. Max would call on him for help and he’d nearly jump at the chance, using his powers to the best of the ability to scry elusive leads like a bloodhound. He’d go back to his side of the office after, head pounding, blood pressure low, happy. Max didn’t like that it hurt him, but there was no denying the look on his face when they landed another hefty contract, when the documents came back signed and he handed it off to the next department. Carlo knew he liked it. He liked winning, he liked having the upper hand. He liked the money and the job security. Who wouldn't?

Max had tried to open him a bank account but couldn’t, since he was a precognitive belonging to Spartan Enterprises and didn’t have the appropriate documents to do so. So he opened a second checking account within his own account and got a debit card for it, which he gave to Carlo. Every four weeks, fifty percent of his monthly commission check was automatically deposited into Carlo’s account. “You earned it,” he'd said gruffly.

Carlo had fifteen thousand dollars in the account by late summer, and had only used the card a handful of times. He’d bought himself a personal laptop, new clothes. A few iced lattes. Other than that it accrued, his by way of his user’s magnanimity. Of course, Max could take it away in a heartbeat, could transfer his little 15K back into his own checking or simply change the pin on the card. Carlo didn’t think he would, but he was acutely aware the money was a gift, a gesture of good will. 

By August he was comfortable. He and Max had a routine. They’d grown closer over the weeks and months since his return from Martin Olsen’s side project, so close it was like they had a shorthand with one another. Ingrid had started treating him more like a family member than a guest. She grew more apt to ask him to help her with things, or take out the trash, and at the same time grew more comfortable around him, less stilted and more affectionate. 

Alex Clair became a friend of their little family. He came over maybe once a month with Zee. They’d all have drinks and then dinner and talk about everything but work until inevitably work would find its way into the conversation, and Carlo and Zee would exchange a glance. They each wondered what the other’s inner life was like. 

Carlo liked Alex, it was hard not to. Everyone liked Alex. Alex was young, though, possibly only a few years older than him. There was something in Max that felt endlessly stable and experienced, even beyond his years, and Carlo knew if he and Zee’s places were switched that he would miss it. 

This routine of happily playing house came to an abrupt end in early September. The humidity of summer still choked the city with a tight lid, lifting only for a few hours at night before returning when the morning fog burned off.

One Friday afternoon Martin Olsen called a meeting for the precog sales team. It was 3:30, and everyone was annoyed. They could taste the weekend, it was nearly time to log off and head out, and now there was a mandatory meeting to attend. There was never a time limit with Martin, either. He might keep them all there until 5:30 and not even acknowledge it. 

He suffered through a long preamble and a talk about sales this quarter, and was thoroughly checked out when the news came, bringing him sharply back into focus. 

“We have had an excellent run. I’m extremely proud of this team, and I know we have some great things in our future,” Martin said. “Having said that, I hope you will understand the reasoning behind the decision to part ways with our precognitive partners.”

Tension filled the room like static electricity. Alex raised his eyebrows. Elle Davenport looked like she might be sick. “I’m sorry?” she blurted. Her precognitive, Belle, stared at the conference table in front of her with a look of placid indifference. Carlo understood it. He was afraid he was wearing a similar look, despite his heart jackhammering in his chest.

“I know you’ve grown accustomed to the help,” Martin placated, his icy eyes roving over everyone at the table. Carlo dropped his so he wouldn’t have to look directly at the man he’d grown so intimately accustomed with over the course of a week, that miserable week that still made him shudder to remember.

Disappointment and panic numbed him. If he tried, he could probably convince himself this was a bad dream and wake up in his bed at Max’s, the familiar print of the brown hare staring at him from the wall. 

“It is a final decision. Know a lot of thought went into it. You were all considered.”

“Where are they sending them?” Max asked sharply. 

Martin spread his hands. “I’m afraid that information is not shared with the likes of me, Max. This is a decision from the top.”

“Bullshit,” Alex said flatly. An uncomfortable silence settled over the meeting room. Carlo noticed it was now past four.  He and Max always left at four on Fridays. He longed for the sickly heat of the city block outside, the smell of concrete and asphalt having baked all day in the sun, the oppressive cloth oven of the truck before the AC started working.

“Has Spartan sold them to a private company?” Max asked Martin directly. “Or are they being returned to the government ?”

Martin ignored him. “I want you all to go home this weekend and process your feelings about this,” he said with clear condescension, pausing for a moment to look at Alex for the first time since his outburst.

“Think about how far you’ve come in eight short months. Think about the challenges you overcame and the adaptations you made. Think about your accounts and the exponential growth they’ve seen. You will continue to reap the benefits of that growth in the months to come. We will maintain those relationships with those new clients. Those deals we closed are not going away. And we will close new contracts, just as we always have. We will continue to grow.”

No one was listening. Zee was watching Alex from the corner of his eye, his face pale under his auburn hair, cut short at the start of summer. Carlo didn’t notice the meeting had just sort of ended until Max was pulling him up by the elbow, pointing him toward the door. 

“This is insane,” Elle Davenport muttered as they walked the hallway together back to their offices. Carlo didn’t know if she was talking more to them or herself. She dug irritably in her purse for her phone. “Are we supposed to go back to fucking cold calling? Really? Where’s the stability? I bought a house. I can’t have my commission checks go to shit.”

Max had a hand between Carlo’s shoulder blades the entire time, steadying him, grounding him. They stopped by the office to shut down and grab their things, and rode the elevator in opressive silence. 

Alex Clair's name flashed on the truck's dash display as he called repeatedly. Max ignored it.

“I’ll call him later,” he muttered on the third time, and switched his phone off. 

Instead of going home, he drove them to the north side of town and parked in front of a brick building hedged in a short wrought iron fence. A white sign at the front read Shrader and Svenson. 

“Am I coming in?” Carlo asked dully, knowing the answer already. 

“Can you wait here?” 

He shrugged, slouching in the passenger seat and looking the other way, out the window to a heat-dried row of shrubs with pieces of plastic and aluminum trash stuck in their yellowed branches like sad ornaments. 

Max wanted to talk to his lawyer friends about him, but without him. It annoyed him. Did he think anything they might discuss would shock him? As if he hadn't already seen the worst case scenario, lived in it? Whose innocence were they trying to protect, exactly? Max could be this way when he was trying to be protective. Seeing Carlo's posture, he didn't try to placate him. He left the keys in the ignition and shut the door. 

Eventually, Carlo glanced between his feet at the bag he’d grabbed before they left, an over-the-shoulder carrier he brought back and forth every day with his personal laptop tucked inside. There was a slim manilla envelope sticking out of the side pocket that caught his eye as out of place. He frowned. He’d never seen it before. It was only big enough to contain a folded check, or a key, something of that sort. He pulled it out and turned it over. It was unmarked.

He looked all around the truck outside before coaxing the fold open. Inside was a single piece of unlined paper. 

Call if you’d like help, it read in a swooping cursive penned with black ink. A phone number followed. From the corner of his eye, he saw Max exiting the practice. He shoved the envelope into his bag and zipped it shut.

[pleasuretrade]

hi here's the very rough(!) first chapter of a fic that i'm not done with.

if anyone wants to beta or just offer feedback i would be grateful :') but i'm writing this very slowly and don't plan on seeing it done for at least a few more months

March x Healy

Summary: 1980. March and Healy take your classic "reunite me with my estranged adult child" case and may or may not wind up getting involved with a cult, irritating 80's toys, shady business, gardening, and drugs. Oh, and they're pretending to be boyfriends because that's totally a perfect cover??

Rating: 18+ for the eventual porn

Length: I'm gonna guess 30k? I'm at 15k rn and we're maybe halfway through. frankly i got no idea

Tags that aren't exhaustive and mostly aren't applicable to this first chapter, but just a sneak peek: pretending to be boyfriends and there's only one fucking bed anyway bitch, March wearing jeans

 The thing about kitsch dolls was that they were supposed to be cute. In abundance they became disturbing. An uncanny noise of soft pastel abstraction, dotted with innumerable eyes, staring at you from living room walls and display cabinets. It didn’t help that almost all of them were religious; angels with halos, praying children, robed biblical figures. March felt like he might combust if he made direct eye contact with the teeming mass of holy ceramic.

“March, did you write that down?”

 Holland whipped his head toward Healy, and then at their client, and then at his open, empty notepad. See, you shouldn’t have that many dolls in one room, it’s distracting. It’s weird. “Sorry, ma’am, could you repeat that?”

“Benjamin Larry Hooper. We called him Benny.”

“Bejamin….L… Hooper… Benny.” March mumbled, pen dashing across the page with a show of gumption.

 Mrs. Hooper nodded at him, all patterned dress and curled hair, hands placed politely on top of their respective thighs. “He was fifteen when he left, he’ll be twenty-six now. Tall for his age, I’m sure he’s giant by now.”

 Holland wrote in big block letters: DOB 1953 TALL

“This is my most recent picture of him, just a few months before he left.” Mrs. Hooper, Francis, reached across her doilied coffee table to hand Healy a framed photograph. It was obviously some kind of family reunion, the photo lined with folks like a tin of sardines. “That’s Benny.” she said, tapping a young man sitting cross legged in the very front row.

 Benny Hooper looked like any other fifteen year old at a family reunion, irritated or bored or both. He had a great mop of hair, a downright halo of pitch black curls reaching every direction. The slacks and short sleeved button-down were probably not his normal choice of attire, so that wouldn’t be helpful even if the kid had disappeared less than a decade ago. The shot was too wide to memorize the details of someone’s face on top of being old. The Benny in the photo hadn’t even finished puberty yet. Overall, the photo wasn’t great.

“Very helpful, thank you. We could use any other photographs you have, too.” Healy smiled pleasantly the way he did. It was freakish, the way the guy could go from deadpan bruiser to soft-eyed teddybear in an instant.

 Holland smiled along, ignoring the everpresent eyes of Mrs. Hooper's kitsch, even though he knew that there was no chance in hell they were finding Benny Hooper.

-

 “There’s no chance in hell, man.” March lit his cigarette in the passenger seat and donned his sunglasses.

 Healy tapped his fingers where he rested his arm in the open window. “We have a lead.”

“If you wanna call maybe seeing a glimpse of someone you haven’t seen in eleven years driving a truck a couple of times a lead, sure, we have a great lead. Can we stop at Hammy’s? Told Holly I’d bring home dinner.”

“Y’know, I bet I could count on two hands the number of times you’ve gone proper grocery shopping since I’ve known you.”

“That’s not true, you went grocery shopping with us like two weeks ago.”

“And you bought eggs, bread, a gallon of neon colored juice, a gallon of whiskey, and five frozen pizzas.”

“Are those not groceries? Is that not sustenance?” March waved his cigarette for emphasis.

“Anyway,” Healy redirected, taking the turn toward Hammy’s, “all we have to do is stake out the spot she saw the truck, right?”

“If everything worked out just that easy we’d be out of a job, Jack.” March took a drag from his cigarette, thanking the stars that loaded, aging ladies were willing to shill out for the most unfeasible asks imaginable time and time again. Healy let it sit because he knew it was true by now, well over two years down the line as a PI.

“Why do you think the kid really left?” Healy asked after a while, expertly flat when Holland had figured out eons ago that the guy really was invested in each case, even the small ones.

“I don’t know, too many doilies? An aversion to puce colored carpet? I wouldn’t stay long either.”

 Healy ignored him. “I find it hard to believe he just up and left for no reason.”

“Maybe Mrs. Hooper’s chicken is dry.” Healy purposefully hit the curb pulling into Hammy’s, jostling March’s cigarette nearly out of his hand. “I mean, it’s not like it matters. Even if we find the kid, he’s not comin’ back. Ten fuckin’ years. Remember that girl, Arrow or Rainbow or whatever she named herself?”

 Healy grunted in reluctant remembrance. They’d found her after a long, boring two months and by the end of it all she’d had to say was ‘thanks for letting me know my family's looking for me, you can go now.’ Not that it mattered much to Holland. They made out with enough money to take a couple of weeks off so they could take Holly to Catalina Island. She got food poisoning on the first day but still claims it was the best trip they’d been on in years (which wasn’t very meaningful considering they’d gone on maybe three of them since she was little).

“Guess you’re right.” Healy parked the car in the crowded parking lot. The line at Hammy’s was always so damn long. “Not getting paid to psychoanalyze the guy.” He sounded reluctant. Any time Healy couldn’t slip in one more act of Good it made him feel like a failure. It was something March secretly admired, however harebrained it was. He glanced a punch off Healy’s shoulder before getting out of the car. “That’s the spirit.”

-

“So why do you think he really left?” Holly asked through a mouthful of burger.

“Jesus, you two should become shrinks.” March grumbled.

 Healy sat comfortably sunken into the couch, a March sitting cross legged on the floor on either side of him. “It might be useful to know.” he added.

“Right. Like maybe you’ll be able to narrow down what kinds of places he’d go if you knew.” Holly agreed.

“Our only lead is a truck. Anyone can drive a truck. I don’t care why he’s driving it. All we have to do is follow.”

“So you admit, it’s a lead.” Healy pointed at him with a french fry.

“It’s a crumb of a lead. It’s the suggestion of a lead. It’s a lingering scent of maybe a lead.”

“Says the guy with no sense of smell.” Healy winked at Holly, who bit her lip to stop her smile from blooming. “A lead’s a lead.”

“Did you notice anything about Mrs. Hooper’s house? Like, anything that might make someone want to run away?” Holly was fifteen and already putting in more work than March.

“Yeah, puce carpet.”

 Healy nudged March with a socked foot. “She seemed nice. Boring, maybe. Said her husband died a few years ago and her other kid’s off at college somewhere, so the house was pretty quiet.”

“Boredom could drive someone away.” Holly said thoughtfully.

“And if it did that still gives us absolutely nothing to go on. Some kids just hate their parents, alright? Guy probably just hitchhiked to New York or something.” March said.

“Sounds nice.” Holly murmured under her breath. Healy nudged her with his other foot.

 March, begrudgingly, loved the gentle way Healy mediated. Fatherhood was something Holland hadn’t really been prepared for, much less being the single dad of a teenager. It didn’t help that he was a big time fuckup or that Holly was too smart for her own good. Having another person in their lives— having Healy in their lives— was a saving grace.

 Recently, Holly had started dating her first boyfriend. Or at least the first that she’d admitted to when she’d lost all plausible deniability after that time they’d picked her up from school and seen her drop some young punk’s hand like a hot iron. It was a point of contention now, between Holly and Holland. Boys were pigs, and Holland would know, he used to be one. It was one of the endless number of things Healy had become referee over, but also something Holly had adopted a near constant attitude because of.

“So when are you starting the stakeout?” Holly asked, fiddling with the cracked straw of her milkshake. March looked at Healy for an answer. He was always better at managing their schedule. Unlike March, he usually remembered what day of the week it was. Healy looked back at him and shrugged. Wasn't like they had another case on, much to the dismay of their wallets. “Tomorrow, I guess.”

 Holly got that look on her face. “Can I come?” Tomorrow was a Saturday.

 March shook his head. “Don’t you have normal teenage things to do? Shouldn’t you be like sneaking vodka out of someone’s mom’s cabinet on a Saturday?”

 Healy chimed in before she could argue. “It’s gonna be boring anyway, Holl. You’ll be sitting in the backseat twiddling your thumbs all day.” She knew that. She’d been on stakeouts with them before. But Healy’s say was more valuable to her than her dad’s, apparently, so she dropped it.

 It was late when Healy headed home, agreeing on the asscrack of dawn to reconvene and start their stakeout.

“Why doesn’t he just live here? You guys spend every day together anyway.”

 March wandered into the dimly lit kitchen for a glass of rye. Their (second) rental, real house unbuilt as ever, was always so still when Healy left. Another item on the laundry list of things March tried not to think about. “Because he’s a grown man, Holly, with his own house.”

“I wouldn’t call that dump a house, and anyway it’s an apartment. He should be sleeping here and not in an attic with a laughtrack that plays until two in the morning.”

“Well then you can invite him to stay for a sleepover next time. You guys can paint nails and read magazines.” Holland wasn’t stupid. He knew that wasn’t really what girls’ sleepovers were like. One time he’d walked in on Holly and her friend eating donuts and saying such depraved things about Joe Strummer that he’d vowed to not open the door without knocking ever again. He never looked at that Clash poster on her wall the same way.

 Holly scoffed in time with the ice tinkling into Holland’s tumbler.

-

 The sun shone way too brightly for Holland. When he’d woken up he’d still been a little drunk, but now out of the house and into Healy’s car a hangover had eagerly seeped in. They’d agreed to start the stakeout before the sun came up, but March had skillfully convinced Healy to take him through a drive-thru breakfast and they were running late. He now nursed a coffee as the sun rose into the perfectly wrong spot in the sky. They watched cars zip lazily by from the corner of a parking lot.

“I just think it would be good to have a dog around.” They’d had this discussion every other day for a month now. March wanted a dog in the house for the very logical reason of alerting them to intruders, Healy nay-sayed because he was a killjoy with no imagination.

“I’m telling you, March, putting in a doggy door just isn’t gonna be enough for a German Shepherd. And we all know you’re not gonna walk it.”

“Why do you even care so much, man? It would be my dog.” And more importantly, why did Healy even have a say in whether or not they got a dog?

“I care because I’d somehow get stuck taking it out half the time. And your sorry ass wouldn’t train it. We’d have an untrained, overpriced menace tearing around the house.” The house. Not Holland and Holly’s house, but The House.

“Well, whatever, even if that was true it’d make a good guard dog, right? No one’s getting past a pent up, feral German Shepherd. Might shit on the carpet but it’ll take a guy’s dick off. Balls too.”

“You should really consider a shrink. I think you’ve lost your damn mind.” Healy shook his head, but Holland caught his smile.

“You taking new patients, doc? I’ve been told by my teenager that I’m a headcase.”

“I could make some room in my busy schedule. Gonna cost you about the same as a purebred German Shepherd, though.”

 March smiled and leaned back into his seat. Absolutely nothing of interest was happening outside at all, which was just fine now but give March three or so more hours and he’d start going stir crazy and the headache wasn't helping.

 Mrs. Hooper had seen the truck twice, once in the morning and once in the early evening, which gave them an unfortunately broad window of time. She’d described it as a white, short cab semitruck, maybe a GMC, with a small trailer on it, which narrowed it down almost not at all. It sounded like every third short haul semi chugging around Los Angeles, of which there were many. Very many.

 The only thing they had to go off of was that the second time around she’d seen what she thought was some kind of blocky hand-lettering on the driver’s side door, done in “nearly illegible” multicolor. When Healy had asked what she meant by “multicolor” Mrs. Hooper had only elaborated as “horribly garish.” So at least there was that.

 The odds that the guy driving the bespoke truck was this Benny person were essentially zero. That was about half their cases these days, desperate longshots funded by desperate rich people. The other half was still taking photographs of idiots who fuck with the curtains open. It was wearing a little thin. Couldn't people invent more important problems to investigate? Whatever. A job’s a job’s a job.

 The coffee in March’s cup had gone cold just in time to meet the creeping heat from outside. He downed the tepid sludge before wrenching the little metal fan out of the back seat and plugging it in. It whirred to life gracelessly.

“Hey.” Healy tapped him on the arm, which startled and excited Holland enough that he flung his empty coffee cup onto the floorboards.

“What—what, you see something?”

 A short cab semi puttered toward them from a distance, aiming for a perfectly timed red light. Healy pulled up the binoculars and squinted through them, waiting for the cab to pull into view enough to see the driver’s door. March’s breathing was shallow in anticipation.

 The truck moved, and Healy tutted, and March could see the glaringly blank door even without the binoculars. “Driver’s blonde. Ginger beard.” Healy said, still staring through the eye pieces like the truck and driver might magically change. “False alarm.”

“They’re all gonna be false alarms. This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack, only the needle was never in the haystack to begin with.”

 Finally, Healy let the binoculars fall into his lap. “I ever told you how much I love your optimism?”

[xoxobuckybarnes]

August 2023 Stucky Fics

Completed

The Irony of Fate (Rated: E, Words: 10K) by janedarling

Summary: Bucky had been curled up at one end of the couch when Steve got home on Tuesday, buried up to his collarbone in a purple flannel quilt Clint had recommended as "the coziest shit ever, you have to get one of these" and so absorbed by The Obelisk Gate that he barely said hi. Steve had simultaneously wanted to crawl under the quilt to suck his cock and bring him a cup of tea. He'd landed on tea, but now he's regretting it. Bucky had been so warm and soft, and Steve could have slid up under the quilt, spread his legs and settled down in between them. Maybe Bucky even would have kept reading a bit, and Steve would have had to work at it a little to distract him, do his best to get Bucky's attention with just his hands and his mouth — “Have you tried talking to him, or are you just thinking about sex all the time?" Sam asks.

it was the summer of '69 (Rated: E, Words: 6K) by controlofwhatido / @controlofwhatido & art by DeamonSlayer576 / @angelicalslayer

Summary: It's 1969 Woodstock. Bucky's there to get high, listen to some music, and get his dick wet.

you're gonna have it your way or nothing at all (Rated: T, Words: 15K) by biblionerd07 / @biblionerd07

Summary: Steve and Bucky aren't really much of a Steve and Bucky anymore these days. Steve's sure it's because Bucky doesn't see himself as the same guy who used to love Steve. In a desperate attempt to prove him wrong, Steve begs Bucky to go on a road trip together, the way they used to dream about, and does his best to remind Bucky of who he is.

I just met you (and this is crazy) (Rated: E, Words: 41K) by littlesystems / @littlesystems

Summary: After Steve gets outed by a grainy cell phone picture, it takes the media less than 24 hours to discover Captain America’s secret relationship with James Barnes: classical musician, teen heartthrob, and son of a former president. The only problem? Steve has never met James Barnes in his life.

That Boy Is a Problem (Rated: E, Words: 10K) by 2bestfriends & art by @arsartisf

Summary: In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve's dick and he's really into it. (The leash is a metaphor. For now.)

Smile for the Camera (series) by lordeofstucky

Smile for the Camera (Rated: E, Words: 172K) Summary: In the pages of every high school yearbook, there is a boy that everyone thinks they know. In the case of Shield High School, that boy is James Buchanan Barnes, and sometimes, he doesn't even know himself. No one does. No one apart from a certain blond haired, blue eyed boy that makes Bucky's heart stutter every time they lock gazes. The boy whose name just happens to be Steve Rogers. High School AU Attention: Bear-Backing Boyfriends Get Mauled While Camping (Or At Least That's What the Headlines Would Read in Bucky's Mind) (Rated: E, Words: 10K) Summary: "I need to bounce on it.” Steve’s brain goes a little haywire at the comment but before he can actually process what Bucky’s referring to, or what his mind envisions, his boyfriend plops down on the air mattress in front of them. “And I think you should join me,” Bucky adds. Looking down at Bucky, Steve has to swallow. He wastes no time and sends a quick glance around the store's aisle and finds that it's still empty. Lucky them. Gently, Steve sinks his knees down into the mattress and immediately Bucky’s legs open up to let him settle in. The brunet hums and his hands trail down Steve’s back,. “Mmm, thought so.” The smile on Bucky’s face is breathtaking and instantly Steve’s kissing him senseless. ***These fics are complete but the series is not.***

The Only Familiar Thing (Rated: E, Words: 39K) by brideofquiet

Summary: Steve takes a breath, steels himself, and asks, “Where are we going, Buck?” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “You’re the one driving, Steve.” And before Steve can protest, Bucky gives him that broad, toothy grin again. The worry pitted in his stomach ebbs, and he decides—what the hell? Why not? Steve pulls his helmet on and swings a leg over the bike. Bucky settles in behind him, and he cranks the engine to life.

Sharper Knives (Rated: M, Words: 3K) by mind_empty_heart_full / @mind-empty-heart-full

Summary: A Friendly Competition with Deadly Consequences When the New York Times Best Sellers book by acclaimed author Yelena Belova broke all major sales records, it seemed inevitable that the story of two rival assassins on the run would be adapted into a film. Now we have an exclusive interview and photoshoots with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes for all the inside scoop. ----------------- Or: Steve and Bucky have been best friends since childhood and are seasoned actors. After many years, they finally got to make a movie together. Much thirsting ensues.

To Be Vulnerable Is Needed Most Of All (Rated: M, Words: 118K) by perfect_plan

Summary: Steve is a shy comic book artist and meets his new neighbour, Bucky Barnes. In which there are awkward longings, meddling best friends, comic conventions, heartache, lemons, video games, dorkiness, dancing and two cute boys.

Judged By the Cover (Rated: E, Words: 32K) by EmmaLostInWonderland / @emmalostinwonderland & LouiKazooie / @louikazooie

Summary: Bucky frowns deeply, clicking open the NYT best sellers list. #2. He’s number two. His new book, which he poured heart and soul, blood, sweat, and so many tears into, is number two. On the NYT best seller’s list. He rolls over and closes his eyes, hoping it was all just a bad dream and that he’ll wake up soon… Because the name on top of the New York Times Best Sellers List in the romance genre seemed to be none other than Steven G Rogers. // Bucky Barnes, award-winning romance novelist, is dismayed to learn that his publisher is sending him on a book tour with Steve Rogers, a fantasy author who recently topped the NY Times Bestseller list for his first and only romance novel and Bucky’s personal authorial adversary. As they’re sent off to spend several months touring 50 US cities together, they’ll attempt to overcome their differences and leave the past behind them… maybe they’ll even find love. Bucky POV and fanart by LouiKazooie, Steve POV by EmmaLostInWonderland

WIP

Lost Vocabularies that Might Express (The Memory of These Broken Impressions) (Rated: E, Current Words: 44K) by dorian_burberrycanary / @burberrycanary

Summary: The worst of times, like the best, are always passing away. How’s that for some consolation on the road? A post-The Falcon and The Winter Soldier Stucky fix-it as part of the all-American road trip, detours included. ***Part of the series A Man Takes His Sadness Down to the River (The Consolation of Philosophy): The Same River, Twice (The Man Is Still Left with His Hands) (Rated: G, words: 4K), Still Left with the River (The Paradox of Motion) (Rated: G, Words: 14K), &  Not Language by a Map (The Grammar of Sensation) (Rated: E, Words: 20K)***

Treading Water (Rated: M, Current Words: 193K) by sparkagrace / @sparkagrace & art by Dyslexic_Fetus (Reagy_Jay) / @reagy-jay

Summary: Olympic swimmer Bucky Barnes always believed that when the time came to retire, he would walk away with his medals and world records firmly in the history books and never look back. He never thought the water would leave him first. ***Part of the series Lane Lines: Lane Lines (Rated: M, Words: 132K), Lumière (Rated: M, Words: 5K), & New Traditions (Rated: M, Words: 6K)***

a league of our own (Rated: E, Current Words: 30K) by burning_brighter / @burning-brighter

Summary: Steve’s sixteen-year-old son’s one and only dream is to play in the Major League. He thinks he has a shot when the team get a new coach, retired MLB legend and Steve’s high school crush, Bucky Barnes. Steve hasn’t thought of the man in many years, but seeing him brings back many memories that push Steve to reach out to an old friend and maybe make new ones on the way. What happens when Steve gets to know Bucky properly? What happens when they open up about their darkest secrets and deepest fears? There’s really only one thing that can happen.

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Izzy Amnesia Fic Excerpt (Spoilers)

Since "show the excerpt" won by a wide margin, this is getting posted. But since a portion of you didn't want it, I'll put the actual excerpt under a "read more" banner.

Note: this is from about I'd say a third of the way into the fic? So this is definitely not guaranteeing an angsty ending. Just that there is going to be some Shit That Goes Down on the way. (Also, that there is a lead up to this. It doesn't just come out of nowhere.)

With that being said, I'm warning you now that this excerpt is going to end on an absolutely gut wrenching note. And yes, I am extremely pleased by that.

---

the blessing only comes with bitterness (all that you believe in can survive this one)

Title is from "December '04" by the Oh Hellos, one of the main songs on my playlists for this fic. (And yes, I made TWO playlists for this fic. I'm at 15k and it's still got at least a few thousand left and it spiralled. Whoops. At least I'm posting this excerpt, for better or worse.)

---

“I forgot how absolutely bitter and repressed you were. You can't handle the thought that someone else could turn Blackbeard's eye, or hell, your own,” Lucius says, furious tears in his eyes, and the words cut across Izzy's ribs like Hornigold’s whip. “How would you feel if I told you that you're married, now? And to someone that isn't Blackbeard? Doesn't that make you want to shrivel up into a tiny ball, the idea that someone loves you so much that they would vow their life to you, and that it isn't the man who created you? Doesn't that just terrify you to death?"

Izzy has his sword out, the sharp side of the blade against Lucius’ throat, but Lucius’ vicious smirk doesn't slip even a millimeter. He knows which nerves of Izzy's are the rawest. He knows what strings hurt the most to be plucked. He knows how to dig his claws into the softest parts of Izzy's heart that he thought long ago calloused over. He knows about parts of Izzy that he has never shared with anyone, even Edward himself.

(Pete has his own sword out, but it is held by his side as he glances frantically between them, clearly uneasy about letting his blade join the conversation.)

“Where is this man or woman you claim I decided to turn against my Captain to marry?”

Lucius and Pete exchange a glance and some acidic mix of insecurity and rage crunches Izzy's stomach. He's been struggling since he woke up, head in agony, and whoever this fucking spouse didn't care enough to help him, to ground him, to care for him when he was laid up with a fever and woke missing years of memory.

Izzy snarls. "They're clearly not here, so they must be a fucking coward. Better dead than alive if they can't even be relied upon to stay by my side when I have a fever, much less years of missing memories-"

“Don't you dare fucking talk about my husband like that,” Pete seethes, fingers tightening around the hilt of his sword.

A stone drops into Izzy's stomach. "Your husband? I thought we were talking about my witless spouse?”

“They're standing right in front of you, you impertinent jackass,” Lucius says, tone vicious as he pulls back the neckline of his tunic to yank out a wooden ring on a leather strap. His wooden finger jerks to the side to point at the wooden ring on Pete’s hand. “Surprise. You're stuck with us.”

Izzy has to be hallucinating. He must have gotten an infection. All of this must be the product of a fevered mind. 

There is no way that the scribe who humiliated him in front of the crew and the guy he slapped the head of and called a “useless fucking fucker” a few days ago could possibly have decided to marry him.

All Izzy knows is violence and control. All he knows is Edward and the sea. He does not know softness and weakness and the sort of gormless sentiment that would let himself be tied to the idiot twins.

This can't be real. He's hallucinating, that's it.

Ed is still here. Stede Bonnet's ragtag group of idiots are going to fail at their attempt at a fuckery tomorrow and Ed is going to kill Stede Bonnet and this scribe and his boyfriend will be nothing but the guys who Izzy caught fucking in the storage hold and all of this will have been a horrible, terrible nightmare-

“You’re lying,” Izzy snaps. “You absolute-”

“Twats?” Lucius offers with a horrible, gut-wrenching, fond smirk, and if Izzy ever decided to marry this man, he’d be a fucking fool.

---

But also, because I can't leave you on such a downer, and because I'm nice, here's one of my favorite lines from later in the fic when things are on the upswing:

Lucius Spriggs is a rotten bastard, an absolute bitch, and also one of the kindest people Izzy has ever met.

[whentherewerebicycles]

just got hit with an unexpected $600 bill for what my insurance says is a “noncovered service” even though they’ve covered it in the past sooo gonna have to call about that later and already have the sinking despair feeling of: it’s probably not going to get waived. between this and a week of unfortunate vet bills I think the dream of one last trip before the baby is not going to happen and I feel pretty bummed about that… also I fear I will be broke for the rest of my life because I spent almost the entirety of my 20s making $15k a year in grad school and it turns out that does not set you up for long-term financial stability in your 30s. but it was sunny out and we went for a nice long calming walk, including a foray into the cool dark woods where little mushrooms are growing up out of the damp earth. I’m in a pretty bad funk right now but money isn’t real and it’s not really fair to compare myself to my brothers’ financial situations when they make way more money than me, have been working well-paying jobs for much longer than me, and are part of two-income households. ugh I just have some black sheep feelings around being the oldest in the family and yet perpetually the one whose financial situation is the most precarious. but like I made my professional choices! and it’s fine it’s fine I like my life I just wish I felt less squeezed all the time. I will pursue various avenues to try to get this medical bill partially covered. I will start this second job in January and if they don’t give me enough hours I will pick up another one. also I will cry a bunch right now because I can tell I just need to get it out of my system.

oh and maybe I will practice doing this cognitive behavioral therapy triangle thing my therapist gave me as homework.

activating event: got walloped with another huge medical bill which has been a huge stressor for me all year (bc so many fucking medical bills)

belief (negative self-talk): I am either broke or on the verge of being broke all the time, I have no savings cushion at all, and every small setback makes me feel like I’m one crisis away from real financial catastrophe. this means I am a fuck-up and a failed adult who probably has no business having a baby. this situation is my own fault and reflects an inner unworthiness. also my parents and family are probably silently judging me for being an idiot with my money.

consequence (how I feel as a result): I feel a lot of shame and it makes me feel really bad

now I am supposed to go back to the belief and try to disentangle it/give myself an alternative narrative.

alternate belief: I live in a society with a super fucked up healthcare system that extorts us all to the maximum extent; I also live in a culture where insurance companies are allowed to be like ‘haha very funny go fuck yourself’ to lgbtq people and people with fertility issues who want to have kids. I have made values-aligned choices about what I want my life to look like (working in public ed and having a family), and it is a brave and honorable thing to create a life you believe in when there is lots of pressure to do something different instead (keep the horrible government contractor job that paid an obscene amount of money, not have a baby). that might be being a failed adult by some people’s standards, but if I think about what being a grown-up means to me I think it should include being able to exercise autonomy over my body/choices and making decisions that bring my lived experience into closer alignment with my core values and beliefs. also money is real but it also isn’t real and I can do the “stress now and suffer twice” thing or I can take a deep breath and move through it and hope things look different in six months. also people who are financially stable don’t “deserve” to have families more than people who don’t have savings or are dealing with a lot of debt! that’s not how it works!

[kokobopam]

SS9 in Chile - an essay by kokobopam

It’s been two weeks since I saw Super Junior and I want to talk about it!

The thing is, initially I was going to write a little twitter thread about it, but then I had too much to say and too many things I didn’t want to forget so I decided to write a journal entry. This is something I’ve gotten used to doing after coming back from a concert I loved but they always end up on a notebook that no one else is going to see. So I thought maybe I could share a bit here. 

It’s still a very long post lmao but if you read it, I hope you can enjoy some of my thoughts, feelings and impressions of SS9 in Chile.

Super Show 9 : The Road - Santiago

For those of you who don’t know, I got into kpop very recently, like, starting the pandemic. So this was a very big deal because I’ve never been to a kpop concert (I’m not counting the failed MuBank, it was a festival anyway) or seen any of my favorite groups before. In fact, aside from Super Junior, who’s been to my country twice, neither EXO nor TVXQ have been close to me ever.

Up till December, we were convinced we would get a SS9 in Argentina, but things happened —the economy, stupid production companies, just one month's notice before the show— and we weren’t as lucky this time. It had to be Chile, then.

I won’t get into details but organizing this trip in such short notice was hard as fuck, but I was feeling so depressed at the prospect of missing them and they never coming back again that I simply had to go. It worked out in the end. Even when I had to put everything together in less than two weeks and I’m gonna be paying this for the next three months, it was worth every cent.

I’ve been to many, many (non-kpop) concerts and you can tell when the artist is there to share their music, to put on a show or just to get paid. Super Junior…they’re not just idols, they’re entertainers and they’re SO GOOD at it. But you can also tell how much they love doing what they do and that love and energy is definitely contagious.

The phenomenon of Super Junior becoming one of the biggest kpop groups in Latin America —more than a decade ago, before kpop went “mainstream” — is something to talk about on another post but I do believe we have a special relationship with them, otherwise this wouldn’t be their third time visiting in a decade and filling 15k - 20k venues, even on weekdays in some cases.

And I know, I know, speeches get repeated and the same words translated into different languages but you can tell when someone’s being honest about their feelings. They didn’t shy out about the fact that the flight had left them exhausted, that their bodies ached or that the jet lag was taking a toll on them but they still left everything on stage and made sure to tell us again and again how much energy they gained from us. 

So in return we sang and cheered for them as loud as we could and gave them all the love we have. I came back home feeling incredibly in love with Latam ELFs, I swear. 

Let’s get to the concert then.

I already knew most of the setlist but I still was blown away when the show began with Burn the Floor. This was probably one of the performances I was anticipating the most —ever since I watched the beginning of their tour in Seoul online— and finally experiencing it in person was absolutely incredible. This song and the stage production, with all the outfits and lights and red ropes (puppet strings!), was definitely one of the reasons I became an ELF so I was so glad they didn’t take it from the setlist.

They did change the setlist, though, and removed the Ticky Tocky-Paradox-Mystery section which I really wanted to see live. BUT I’m not complaining. In exchange they added One More Time and Lo Siento which everyone sang really loud, specially the choruses and parts in spanish. It was so much fun! And they also did Devil, Mango and Mamacita (the full regular ver! instead of the opera one) in those sexy black outfits, so yeah that was neat. 

The third part of the show was soft boys time <3 Yesung sang Small Things and he was the only member to do a solo. It was very sweet that he got the chance to do so, given that he didn’t have a lot of time to promote the album before coming to latam. I hope he enjoyed the spotlight even if we weren’t the best at the fan chant lol.

I don’t know how to explain this, but up to this point I had been very focused on the performances. Maybe it’s because it had been over a decade since the last time I saw any kind of pop group with men dancing on stage, or maybe because for all the previous acts they had been wearing color coordinated outfits so it was a bit hard to tell them apart from afar (I wasn’t close to the stage); but the thing is, listening to K.R.Y. live absolutely broke me.

It’s like my brain finally caught up with the fact that I was actually listening to them singing live in front of me and, god, I was positively overwhelmed. Kyuhyun’s and Ryeowook’s voices are some of my favorites in kpop and being able to hear them in person..I cried for real. I’m a sucker for singers and I still get goosebumps thinking about it. They’re out of this world, the three of them.

And another thing a friend pointed out was that it was their first time performing as a subunit in latam —Yesung wasn’t present the first time in 2013 and KyuWook were missing in 2018—so yeah, very surreal. I feel so lucky.

Part four of the show was what I’d been really really anticipating the whole time. Because when would I ever have the chance to see D&E or experience Bonamana rock ver. again? 

It was HOT. 

D&E are insane live. They have this crazily explosive stage presence that forces you to keep your eyes fixed on them because you don’t want to miss anything. They performed B.A.D and Danger and seeing them dance and flirt with the audience��I just couldn’t believe it. I hope they consider coming back in the future with their own tour because I wouldn’t miss the chance to see them.

After that, the rest of the members joined them for Black Suit and Bonamana. 

Ngl, I’ve been saving Bonamana Leeteuk fancams (you know which ones) since the beginning of their tour, but seeing the real thing live, I’m pretty sure I got a nose bleed. I also had Leeteuk, Kyuhyun and Hyukjae on my side of the stage so I was screaming my lungs out the entire time. They’re so sexy, all of them, and they went full rockstars with this performance which wasn’t good for my health. I’m still recovering.

Finally, they started the last bit of the show with the Analog Radio self recorded video which made me cry again (don’t judge me, I was really emotional). 

This last encore is where they show up with their hand drawn t-shirts (cute!!), sing some meaningful but fun songs and do their final ments. It was really sweet that they took their time to walk the entire stage sending hearts and kisses, waving at fans and interacting with them. Ryeowook even forgot to sing his part in a song because he was sitting down, signing albums haha my boy. 

Their ments were also cute and fun and heartfelt. And they made a real effort to communicate in our language and let us know how much they’d missed us and that, despite being tired, they were happy to be there. 

Special mention to Kyuhyun, my spanish speaking king, giving his entire speech like a local and going crazy for an inflatable whiskey bottle (x) after we sang him happy birthday lmao.

They closed the show with Ahora te puedes marchar, a total party with every single person singing along, said goodbye again, and that was it. The best two hours and a half of my life.

I came back home with many great memories and new elf friends which feels so good because there aren’t many kpop stans my age with the same music tastes where I live. So it was really lovely being able to share this with other people, specially since many of us had to travel very far away to see them. It was the best kind of bonding experience and I do love meeting people at concerts.

I’m still very emotional about everything. Following the rest of the tour stops in latam kept me on a SS9 high for a week and now I’m slowly coming back to reality, feeling like it was all a dream.

At least I know I didn’t imagine it, because just yesterday EunHae were posting a bunch of videos and pics about the tour with cute messages, so, we’re all going through it haha.

Thank you for reading this far. I know it’s probably too long but I love Super Junior with all my heart and I couldn’t fit that in a 280 character tweet.

I’m already making plans with my new elf friends to see them again so I hope they come back soon. And I hope next time it’s in my country.

[blubushie]

Well I'm taking you at your word, then! Round 1: How did you come to do what you do? Was it a sudden impulse/ jumping off the deep end, or a slow and steady march into it? Have you always wanted to hunt nuisance animals for money or did you come by it while pursuing something else at first?

In short: How did Blu become bushie? *chin hands*

It was 100% a result of me losing my mind and going off the deep end.

FUN STORY TIME.

I don't like people. In this kinda way.

"EW. PEOPLE."

People are strange and cruel and nasty and sometimes they'll kill lizards in front of you when you're in year 4 because they know you like them. People do mean things to other things just to hurt someone they don't like, so I don't like people. And there's a fucking lot of people everywhere. There's a lot of people in Alice Springs. There's a LOT of people in California.

And I don't like people.

I'll admit that I got into my own head a lot (still do; I zone out often). And I got this idea, right? The Swagmen of Olde. They lived in the bush with a lot less, er, support than what we have now. Modern day swagman. Revive an old Australian tradition. So I was say fifteen and we got out for I think the term 1 holidays, aaand I was officially a missing child for a week because I packed my swag and disappeared into the Outback. I lived off bottled water, native wells, and my scroggin ran out on day 2 so after that I survived off quandong and witchetty grubs (note to readers, don't go into the Outback without a machete because trying to dig out witchetty grubs with a knife will blister your palms). Basically stayed alive by making my own shelter from shit my dad taught me, or things I read about in books.

Anyway the NTPF eventually put out a chopper for me and dragged me kicking and screaming to civilisation (I was so feral they put me in the fucking divvy van) and it sucked (also I made the newspaper, not the point). But in the 5 days I was gone I just... found some inner peace, I suppose? I was talk of the town and over the next year there were three or four additional attempts to return to the Outback until Mum (and the NTPF) got tired of me trying to dehydrate myself to death and brought us both back to California.

And my California town is bigger than Alice Springs. The town has a population of ~80,000 and there's people fucking everywhere and I hate it.

So I did the same thing I did in Australia and routinely went walkabout to the point our local sheriff knew me by name. It got to the point the LOCALS knew me by name. Half would call in and report me when I was out walking on behalf of my father, the other were of the wildchild mentality and had an unspoken agreement of "Do not send Blu back to that house." (My parents aren't abusive or anything, the locals were just of the idea that at 16 I was finding my own way in the world like kids did back in the 50s, which... Yeah, I was.)

I was given an ankle monitor because I was a flight risk, and I stopped leaving.

Anyway I left high school, got a job working part-time graveyard at Dad's insistence on doing something with my life, and on the side I started talking to the neighbours who know I'm one hell of a shot (courtesy of me recently winning a county sharpshooting competition). And they get this bright idea, right, they've got a lot of coyotes on their property trying to lift their sheep. So I start killing coyotes. They're proud of my work, they tell their neighbours, I start getting paid $25 per pig I kill on their property so long as they keep the bacon. Fine deal for everyone involved.

Between pest control and graveyard and some other odd jobs I made ~$15k over 6 months and I still had this niggling idea in my head of going bush permanently. At 18 I bought my FIRST ute and went east. And that ute was fucking old. Not a '99 Ford, an '87 Ford F-150 with over 300,000mi on it. I figured I'd get to somewhere around New Mexico before it'd cark it because that poor bastard didn't sound right from the get-go.

And cark it it did! But I also learned a few things from my dad, and so I jerry rigged that cunt (which consisted of removing the faulty ignition and replacing it with a fucking screwdriver). I got it started and working again. Got it to Texas, got the ignition fixed, and took jobs in the southwest for 6 months.

And then I got sick of the southwest. I saw the towns I frequented become gentrified. They lost their personality. The mum and pop stores shut down and were replaced with Targets and Walmarts and the land started seeing construction and in six months I'd lost all hope for it.

So I said "fuck this shit" and decided, for the fifth time in my life, that I was going to the Outback. I went back to California, got my passport and all my necessary identification, had a MASSIVE argument with my parents because they didn't want me to leave, but I left anyway and sold the ute and I took a bus to San Francisco, got lost, ended up sleeping in an alleyway at some point which isn't important except to remember that I fucking hate cities, but eventually got my way to the airport with about $10k in cash and debit and I got the first flight to Sydney.

All without a fucking mobile phone.

And I spent every dollar I had save for $2000 on a '99 F-150. And my first night I bought a bottle of plonk (strange buying booze at 19 years old). I smashed it in the bush over my ute's roo bar and I christened her Matilda, my steadfast companion who will come waltzing with me. And I drove her up to Brisbane, and then to Cairns, and while in Cairns I was stopped and detained because of my rifle, and then that was confiscated for a month until I got my firearms licence, and then I had to go BACK to Brisbane to pick it up again but before I did that I met a bloke and spent my last $2k on a camper for Matilda.

So now I'm stuck in Australia with not a dollar to my name, no means of getting money on account of not having a rifle, and a new-christened ute with a camper but no way to pay for petrol.

So I drive up the track, end up heading west until Matilda ran out of petrol, then walked 2km or so to the nearest station who happened to have cattle. Aussies take care of our own. Told the bloke there the story over tea and supper, he says I can help muster if I know how to ride a horse.

Boy, do I.

So I do that for a few months, say hooroo to him after he helps me siphon petrol into my tank, and I return to Brisbane and get my rifle back. I make my way back through QLD, stop for a week in Longreach, then get another job as a stockman. For maybe a year I was a full-fledged stockman and met my heart horse and I met the first girl I ever loved, but then I stopped being a stockman, worked at sea on a fishing vessel for a few months, come back, and ended up getting a job working some pastoral land near there dealing with a small pack of wild dogs who'd been lifting the bloke's sheep, and I start making a name for myself again as one hell of a sharpshooter. And then I got my commercial shooter's licence.

Rest is history!

[sugareey-makes-stuff]

For the end of year asks I have. So many:

2, 3, 10, 25, and 30!!! 💛💛💛💛💛

Hiya friend! Hell yeah, gimme all the q's! Here's what I've got after putting some thought into it for 2023:

2. How many fics did you work on this year? (They don’t have to be finished or published!) Oh my God. I don't even know?!! I'm an artist at heart, but 2023 became a BIG writing year for me vs. art or craft making. Not by choice, since Adulting was really hard and everything was basically on fire, so I think I took up writing as a way to journal and cope tbh. My guesstimate between finished works AND WIPs together: I must have been working on at least 20 writing works. Which is kinda crazy...especially trying to do that for 2 fandoms. 😁

3. What’s something you learned about yourself as a writer? I'm actually good at writing and extract Feelings when I'm given a limited word count. Like, I can somehow make the story work if I carefully choose my words and/or sentences since that word count makes sure I get to the point and I don't ramble on for too long. I've definitely been more aware of how I write depending on what it's for. Also, those short word counts have taught me to be cleaner or punchier. Which is always a good thing! I started writing microfics in 2022, and in 2023, I started writing more drabbles. When I signed up for a couple of fic exchanges, I graduated to writing short fics that were 2k or less. So, I think if I generally set some kind of word count for myself, that gives me a framework to determine how big the thing will end up being.

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? OOO, that is a tough one! Okay, I honestly love Pink Lemonade (Sterek, T, 600 words with art) because it's a ficlet with art, and the whole creative process just flowed when I made this whole thing! I wanted to play more with silhouettes for art (which I think we'll see more of for 2024). And then I already had this little story planned out in my head, so I threw those words down. I think this was probably one of the easier works I've put together because everything cooperated. Also, soft boys! ♥️

25. What did you use to write? (e.g. writing programs, paper & pen, etc.) Scrivener! That program has changed the way I write, and I swear by it every day! The features are awesome (hello to color coding and snapshots), but I absolutely love that I have the ability to link to internal and external links. Lifesaver for a geeky researcher. I feel like I can actually organize my drafts AND my notes without being a trash goblin, so I've definitely been willing to write more because of that. When I had a recent power outage though, I did actually do some paper and pen writing, which was pretty neat. It makes the idea more concrete, and you bet that's going to become a fic soon. It's about...well, being stuck in a power outage...surprise! 😂

30. What’s something that you want to write in 2024? I technically want to write sooo many things but I will narrow it down to a couple. The first one would be another installment out for Where do we go from here? I miss making things for Perciver, but 2023 really didn't let me give them the TLC they deserve. I looked back at my fic doc the other day, and I'm glad past!Krissy wrote drafts for 2 possible installments. They've got legs, so it would be amazing to get both of them out! I also want to see if I can get at least one of my longer Sterek fics posted up as well. Maybe it comes down to taking the baby steps to see which one I can finish first...the 50k 10-11 chaptered Beast that I started a year ago, or the 10-15k 5 + 1 Things fic that I started a month ago. We'll find out, I'm sure!

Thanks so much for the asks!

__ Previously asked: 15 and 17 Want to ask me more writer q's? Let me know via the 2023 in review fic writer asks!

[crystalelemental]

It's that time once again, lads.

EX & 20/20 Current 5* powerups: 255 Current spirits: 890 5* powerups available: 49 (20 lodge, 5 event, 4 CS, 20 exchange) Spirits available: 340 (85x4 CS) Total powerups: 304 Total spirits: 1230

We can afford a decent amount at this point.  I've realized I can spend powerups down to 150, to match the 500 spirits for 10 EX in a pinch.  So let's call it 9 available.

This month's acquisitions will include...Penny and Valerie. Sylveon Supremacy.  I am not sold on anyone else.  I've talked myself out of Roxie and Ryuki, I don't care about Piers or Elaine at present.  I may go for the Eevee tier scout.  Two guaranteed Eevesi along the way is nice, and if I roll one of Selene or Elio, I'll get the other at pity.  I don't know if I'll EX them, it really depends on how I'm feeling about it.  Since Valerie is already 20/20, we can get up to 8 others.

Rei - Really strong Fighting damage, Hisui bias, etc.

SS Silver - My Ice roster is basically "Irida."  I should aim to boost that, and I like Silver and Sneasel well enough.

SS N - Frankly a terrible idea, I don't really respect him, but he is fun when I break him out. That said, meta shift, 15k Master Mode may not play so nice with him.

Ethan - If I decide to go hard on the Fire High Score event. Which I'm already backing out of.

Eevee Lucas - Same as Ethan, but also, Eevesi. He is the Only Good Flareon, so tempted.

Lodge Calem - Fennekin is baby. Also Fire High Score I guess, but mostly the baby thing.

Classic Blue - I use him semi-regularly thanks to the Roxanne/Lodge Steven comp. But as an off-type, that one is in Major Danger with the meta shift, so I'm not exactly sold on it.

Alder - Bug game is weak, I think it'd be nice to have a stronger Bug Man around, and I like Volcarona well enough.

Anni Steven - Maybe one day.  I legitimately do want to do this one day.

Relevant Support Roundup:

Lana - Still not really feeling it.

BP Morty - Kinda unnecessary.

BP Surge - Helps his Gauntlet survival but I hate using him.

Lodge Blue - Don't really use him outside of Gauntlet.

Lodge Elesa - Don't really use her outside of Gauntlet

Lodge Raihan - Really don't respect it.

Nita (20/20) - I'm considering just because I've been F2P focused, but I don't like Nita or Lando, so...

Lodge Morty - Actually does see use, there's an argument to be made here.

Lodge Acerola - Less frequently used than Morty, but still sees play.

Lodge Adaman - Not actually good, but Eeveelution and Hisui.

Lodge Leaf - I've found more opportunities to try with her, but also I feel like Penny just walked in and knocked her teeth out.

The 20/20 I have a few pairs that are sitting at 20/20, and would just cost spirits.  Given that I have enough powerups for 9 EX but enough spirits for 14, this may be worth looking at.

NC Marnie - Intensely unnecessary but kinda funny. Compresses Fiery Wrath.

SS Ethan - Also super unnecessary given he's 1/5, and Aeroblast doesn't even compress.

Victrier - I don't like Victor, but he's a free Field pair for Ghost, and I do like Spectrier. The recent Galar battle got me thinking about investing after all.

CANDY SITUATION Strike (4)

Petrel - 2.  I mean.  It's worth considering?

Rose - 2.  He gets a lot stronger with it.

SS Ethan - 2.  Full sync privileges, if that's a thing we care about now.

Honestly, just hold.

Tech (2)

SC Ingo - 2.  Bug nuke man with MPR.

BT Leon - 2.  I did EX him, and Dragapult has grown on me tremendously.

I'll likely do BT Leon, but at next datamine when I'm certain it's safe.

Support (2) None!  Amazing.  If I lucky pull H!Phoebe I'll consider it.  "What about Pen-" Penny will cooperate or so help me god.  I am done with it always being the support that goes bad.  Just one month without needing Support candy, Penny!  JUST ONE!

General (19)

Rei - 2.  He's really strong, so this is a fairly sane investment overall. And Hisui, so you know, regional bias.

The Eevi - Okay, this is a big one.  I hoard.  I hoard so bad I have 19 of these general candy sitting in my lap right now.  I have not used one...almost ever.  That's a problem.  I stockpile so I can avoid disaster, but at the point I can also just hand all five of them candy and probably still be over 10, we've reached the point I'm being ridiculous.  I am willing to candy them.  If I crack for Elio and Selene, I'm not going for the other Eevee scout and risking another disaster, I'm just using general candy.  This shit ends now.

Cake Situation I have a Tech and a Support. Exactly nothing with these effects interests me right now. Holding. As for the potential for another Strike cake from Penny, I don't feel like anyone needs it. Akari's sync isn't that great, she's had no problem with DPS, and I sure as hell am not giving it to Penny. Hold all cakes.

LEVEL 150

Nemona - I don't use Nemona all that often, but that's a failure on my part, not hers.

Drasna - I love Drasna, I feel like I need to. Maybe if I shower her with affection, she'll show up off-focus.

BT Leon - My recent ScarVi competitive streak got me really hooked on Dragapult. I love that funky Ghostie Dragon.

SS Diantha - A little hesitant, but it is Diancie.

NC Serena - Considering because Serena and this is her best outfit. Hesitating because Greninja.

Bede - Look. We all need to accept that I like Bede.

Anni Skyla - Tornadus Therian is one of the only good djinn forms, and I really like her 3/5 kit.

SS Serena - I feel like it just makes sense but it's hard to justify.

Kahili - I like never use Kahili anymore but she was a big focus for a while there. Maybe when she gets EX.

Shauntal - Shauntal did get EX and I really like her DPS sets so I'm kinda tempted here.

Kris - Kick you apart, now even harder.

Clair - Favoritism.

Iris - I like running things that are bad.

Penny - Sylveon is good, and I like it.

[spurgie-cousin]

Disregard that last question about why Lawson and Tiffany keep tagging people magazine. My brain apparently shut down halfway through reading the post that included the online People article🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️🤦🏼‍♀️

I know People mag isn't as popular as it used to be, but a whole article dedicated to Lawson's single release seems......... weird. 'Vows' has been on Spotify since May 3 and has less than 9k listens (Lawson has over 270k followers on instagram for comparison. And Tiffany, who also promotes his stuff, has 116k).

It just feels like small potatoes for a magazine interview? Like a........ who cares kind of thing? lol.

The music is obviously not what people follow him for, I went to compare interaction on music related posts to others. And he's literally hidden like counts on the former, almost like he doesn't want people to see the extreme difference 👀 his ambiguous pre-announcement that we thought was a baby got 15k, vlog related ones hover around 8-10, and a PINNED post about his "tour" has 5 something. And it's been pinned for months.

So yea it's very much giving a dad who had a midlife crisis and joined a cover band, and we all have to act like we love the music because it's a good hobby for him that keeps him from driving mom crazy.