#i'm dropping this here so i can go finish chores and stuff ;;;;

[dreammelter]

Speedrun Workshop Postmortem

I wanted to make a more detailed postmortem as I cleaned the project files up but I'll keep it simple today… If I take any longer, I'm sure to give up on it. (The year is ending so there's a lot of prep/wrap-up going on in other areas I'm responsible for. 🙃)

What I'll cover:

What was the project about? It's goals? It's products?

How did I approach it?

How did things change and why?

What did I like most of what I completed?

What did I wish I could complete?

What did I learn? (A LOT. But maybe make a more definitive list.)

What would be my tips/advice for next time?

(Project deliverables are up on GitHub.)

The One Day Workshop

I only vaguely remember what spurred the project and apparently don't have any journal entries for it either… so here's the gist of it!

My sister worked with City of Las Vegas/Strong Future to help teach some Office 365 basics. In July, she decided to start a small tech biz (now defunct) that offered more technical training. If I remember correctly, she asked if there was anything I'd like to offer, so I figured I could cover programming, 3D art, and game development. (I really just wanted an excuse to play with the things I liked lol.) The team at Strong Future took an interest in hosting the game development class, but they only had a small budget for it at the time. So we decided to host a workshop for middle and high school students on Nevada Day.

The idea was to introduce students to the process of game development as well as some careers and resources. Since the workshop would only last 5 hours, the students would follow along with the recreation of an arcade-like game. I originally wanted to require students have some experience with code since we'd be jumping right into a project. We decided to leave it open to those without it, though. I figured I could do a quick intro to scripting and wouldn't sweat it too much since students could either type-along or drag-and-drop the files.

The workshop had an additional constraint: the computers in the lab wouldn't be able to install any additional software, so I'd have to use a portable or web-based game engine. I've long held onto a list of game engines and dev resources, so finding one wasn't an issue. What was interesting, though, was seeing how some of them have changed over the years… Godot Engine was the first one that came to mind and the one I was sure I was going to go with, but I took a look at my old list anyway. Cocos2D was my second choice since I'd be able to use JavaScript and I was considering it for a future web project, but it required more setup and research than I was interested in bothering with. (The modern Cocos editor requires an install.) Defold, like Godot, doesn't require an install but I didn't want to write in Lua. (Read: I didn't want to relearn how to write Lua. I only have three months.) Game Maker, Construct, GameSalad, and GDevelop were some others I considered for their web versions and/or visual programming features, but I didn't want to force the students to sign up for anything.

So Godot it was. 😎 Long Live Open-Source.

We also named the workshop "Speedrun" some weeks later.

Expectation

The workshop needed three things: a prototype to remake, some slides, and a collection of resources the students could use and refer to later. I was also advised to create a printed handout students could follow along with.

There would also be 20 students at most.

I wanted to break down the five hours as such:

1 hour talking about the industry, careers, and development concepts

3 hours walking through the prototype

1 hour letting the students tinker and build their own levels

(I wrote a couple of different outlines with timestamps closer to the end of the project, too.)

I wanted to teach the students game dev was all about problem solving (and IID.) I'd pose a question or scenario, then walk them through the implementation. Once we built the base game, the students could use the extra resources to add to it however they pleased.

I also split up the 3 months of development time of this project:

1 month to get up to speed with Godot 4 and create a game prototype

1 month to polish the prototype and write up the written materials

1 month to polish the materials, practice the presentation, and prepare for the workshop day

Reality

So I ended taking two months trying to prototype. I briefly talked about it in the "mini postmortem" I included in the class handbook… In short: I tried out different game ideas to see what I could actually implement by the end of the first month. The second month rolled around so I started moving the desired game mechanics to a clean file… just for them to start falling apart. That's when I settled on just making a simple platformer. I used all of September and half of October putting the platformer prototype together, leaving two weeks to put the remaining documents together. Ended up skipping the handout, since I couldn't decide what to put on it… I had a couple different versions of the to-do lists I used to track progress of the game that I could use, but I wasn't sure just how much detail should be included for each task to actually be useful. I didn't complete the handbook in time for class either, so I spent an extra two-three days writing that up…

Dragging and dropping the scripts and resource files from the prototype came in super handy. Because, contrary to my expectation, 4 hours was not enough time to even get past the setup of the player character and tile map. I did not account for students who might not have had any experience with editors of any sort (and forgot to give them an actual tour of the engine. OTL) It wasn't the perfect presentation of "game dev as problem-solving" I hoped for… it was a scramble of remembering what to click and do next. I think the problem-solving sentiment still floats around in the docs and presentation… somewhat. But if there's anything I regret, it's that failure to effectively lead the students through the recreation of the prototype game. We were all pretty exhausted by the end. They said they learned a lot but I hope it didn't crush their interests in building games. 😭

I did spend about an hour and a half covering the industry and such (to my surprise. I wasn't sure I was going to have enough to say, but alas… we did. And it was just a debrief of the topics themselves.) I was also lucky that the students who came in later showed up at opportune times, when it was easy to get them up to speed.

I didn't complete the prototype, but we didn't get very far with the game in-class, either. Guess there's a bit of grace there… I was so worried I end up with a class full of students who were already so comfortable building games in the virtual worlds they hang out in. (But I only had one student who was actually enrolled in a game development program and he was just starting out. All of the students were.)

Reflections

All of that said… I think seeing the reality of how this went down was enlightening. When I get ideas they tend to be overly idyllic and lofty, so it was good to see the gritty, incomplete, and even a little ugly side of this. It was a nice reminder of how much effort goes into creating something that's really good. I mean… the burnout I got after rushing to get this together was 0/10… but the respect I gained for the craft went up 1000%. And seeing how much is available online: from support groups to free tools, the future of game dev will always be bright and exciting.

Part of my screw-up with the approach to teach the development part could have been alleviated if I knew we'd only tackle such a small scope in that time… I obviously couldn't have known how much we'd get through, but a back-up plan beyond "use the premade resources to speed things up" might have been useful in this case. Maybe I could have an alternate "lesson route" where I scaled back most of our goal.

Then again… I probably would've known this ahead of time if I actually practiced the full presentation with someone, rather than the dry run I did alone. 🤔 (One of those expectation vs. reality things.)

Favorite Things

I remember making my first digital game in Flash (though I have this sneaking suspicion there was something I used before it?) Godot's scene-structure was very reminiscent of it. I also liked that it meant you could structure you game basically as the way you see it, making it easy for students to conceptualize.

I also love that you can make tools for the engine using the same language you do to write gameplay code. The coin tool is probably my favorite thing, even though it's incomplete.

Wishes

I'd actually like to figure out what's going on with the double jump animation (which was working at first.) The player can double jump, the conditional block holding the animation just doesn't fire. (I think. I'd have to check the code again.)

It'd also be cool to get the coin tool to work properly in-editor.

Lessons Learned

You won't be able to fit absolutely everything into a project and you probably shouldn't try. 😆 Don't let your brain lie and say you can. Dipping into the longer list of "Nice to Haves" after finishing the "Must Haves" feels nicer than having a long list of "These things were supposed to be in the game--"

Conclusion

I'm gonna be 100% honest, I'm not sure I'd try to build a platformer on my own again. Maybe something closer to a visual novel, sure, but anything more than that? I'd probably enlist the help of some friends. (Especially a gameplay programmer. I'll stick to tools…🫠)

It's a stark position from the one I held as a teen building (fragments of) games… maybe it was the rush to get something together and the burnout that followed. Maybe it was the fact I was building something outside of my initial intention, so I didn't have the same "emotional attachment" I would for something more personal. I do primarily think it was the time constraint and the pressure to make something that I thought would be satisfactory for the students to start with. Sure, I can perform under pressure, but I can't say I do better work under it. And frankly, the pressure is only more bearable with a team, which I didn't have lol.

However, the most important thing is that I completed enough of what was required for this endeavor that I could see it as a success. It's not a smashing or career-changing one, but it's just big enough to be a meaningful experience. (For me and for the handful of students who made it.)

[kurikurikur1]

you all loved my choso fic, so here's catboy/half-cat!choso (who'll ill refer to as just catboy) as a late christmas gift <3

sfw/nsfw:; RATED-R, masterbation, overstimulation, sub!choso, praise kink—etc.

(⁠✷sfw≈

Catboy!choso, who is obsessed with how your soft hands touch him. He loves your touch, his ears twitching—purring loudly as you scratch in-between his ears, the pad of your thumb caressing the line over his nose, his eyes dilated close when your hand comes lower to the bottom of his chin, stroking the skin softly, he leans in, licking the side of your hand affectionately as his shifty eyes stare at you—satisfied.

Catboy!choso who's a little flirtatious here and there—his tail curling around you slightly whenever you two pass by, or how his eyes intentionally shift to show that he needed some pets—ended up giving you a sultry glare that you called him out on, he squirms—his knuckles and cheeks burn up a pink hue, blush dusting over them clearly.

catboy!choso, who doesn't want to be a burden and helps as much as he could when he sees you working or doing a chore—his polite smiles and slightly capable hands move over to finish sweeping the floor for you—or how he tries to tell you that he could help doing your work—oh well, he's learning.

catboy!choso, when needy, and clingy (and perhaps showing signs that he's in heat), climbs on your lap and whines out: "want pets. Please." ears down and his head pressing against the side of your chest, trying to indulge much of you as he can before you finally give in and give him the scratches he deserves.

—nsfw under the cut >☆`

nsfw≈⊰⁠⊹ฺ

catboy!choso, during his heat, lying on the soft and comfy sheets with you—shows signs of his clear situation, humping your side needly as he let out a string of whines, cheeks now red-hot while his face is scrunched, cock throbbing hard with need to breed you and stuff your cunt full of his cum—dripping out of your sweet pussy. His cat tail wraps around your leg letting out a couple of thrusts, trying to mimic the motion of thrusting into you, he just can't help it, you're so irresistible.

catboy!choso who's scared he'll get lectured when he hears you wake up, arms still hugging your waist as he slows down his pace, instead lightly grinding against your ass—an alarm goes off, an alarm you set for the right timing of when choso's in his heat. Poor little boy, you'll definitely punish him when he grinds on you without your permission.

Catboy!choso—who, to his surprise, you actually don't scold him, being used to his heat and the multiple times hes filled you with his seed, you didn't mind his needy behavior of wanting to breed you.

Catboy!choso, he begs—"please, please— let me breed you...p- please, baby.."

he whines, you groggily sit up in the plush bed, your pussy secretly throbbing in excitement—you tell him to sit up as well—Catboy!choso who is obedient, follows your orders, sitting up beside you as he pulls down his loose pajamas, revealing his pulsating cock, painfully needs relief—the tip angry, turning red. He whines again—"I- Im sorry- I- I just couldn't help myself-" he apologizes erratically, his hands playing with his fingers as he looked down—embaressed.

after a few call backs on telling him it's nothing to be ashamed of and its normal—getting him by saying you didn't mind and liked taking care of his 'problem', a few minutes go by and you're on your back, shirt pulled up not enough to take it off you but to reveal your soft breasts, bouncing at his every thrust as a sweaty, naked Catboy!choso, desperately shoving his large cock inside your tight hole, trying to feel all of you as his eyes threatened to drop a tear from the overwhelming pleasure.

he whimpers—"a -am I doing g-good? p- please tell me I- I'm doing good baby I-" he grunts as your squishy cunt clenches tight around veiny cock, swallowing his dick even deeper just enough so his tip overworking hard pushing out all its pre-cum hitting the cervix of your pussy, god he could cry right now from how good your cunt feels, Catboy!choso swears that your cunt is so tight that he can almost taste it.

he cums instantly when you praise him—"you're doing soooo good cho.." with that soft cock-drunk smile on your face—his creamy white seed filling every crevice of your plush, pink-pussy walls, painting your insides white as he actually lets out a stream of tears at the intense orgasm, trying to urgently catch more as he tries to shove, stuff you with more of him by fucking his cum inside you deeper, letting out blabbered confessions out his mouth that he didn't even mean to say out to you—words that would leave him shy and bashful, his eyes widened further when he felt your cum bursting all over his cock, your soft controlled moans right in his ear, the feeling too much as he cums another load into you, cock vigorously overstimulated.

≈{˘time skipミ☆

"t- thank you..thank you.. thank you.." he whispers softly, cheeks slightly tinted as he hugs your tired form from all the breeding you both had done last night, kissing the side of your neck as he tries to come even closer to you. "B- baby.."

"I think my heat's not o- over yet-"

hello! Merry Christmas i hope you all are doing well<3, i think i went overboard with my details here- I do not own the mdni but owner told no need credit was okay♡! Please go support: @arminsumi! Some info here and there—If you wanna be tagged on my next fic or any other character's fic, please go ahead and dm me privately for it or simply comment so you can be on the taglist:) happy holidays everyone<3

ps. freaked out i thought i deleted my draft 😭

[leighsartworks216]

“we can just stay in, blanket fort and all. no one needs to know.” with Zayne please? 🥺🥺🥺

Zayne being allowed to experience childhood whimsy? I'm on it, boss! o7

This ended up being the ADHD hurt/comfort I needed today 😭

Prompt from this list

First - Second - Third - Fourth LADs Masterlists

You're an adult. You have adult responsibilities. You have to go to the bank and the grocery store and the gas station. Not to mention all the work sitting on your desk

Yet here you are, stacking up pillows and draping blankets across chairs.

You're not sure what exactly prompted the idea. It could have been the rain pouring down outside. Or the fresh sheets warm from the dryer. Or even the childhood memories that feel so distant and so acute all at once.

Whatever did it, it had you immediately gathering every pillow and spare blanket in the house.

You lay out a blanket on the living room floor, coffee table pushed aside. Chairs from the dining room set up like walls, with pillows stacked up against them and a large blanket draped over them. The couch acts as a back wall, with more pillows piled on top of it for support. Any spare pillow, plush, and blanket gets shoved inside, where you form them all into a sort of nest.

By the time you've finished, the weight of all your responsibilities sinks in. You sit in the fort, feeling more guilty than before. Your chest aches with the knowledge that you still have so much to do and you've just wasted all this time not doing it. Not to mention the cleanup. And all your chores. And everything else that decides now is the perfect time to pile on to make you feel worse for doing anything that could bring you some joy and peace.

When the keys turn in the lock, you grab one of your plush snowmen and hide your face in its soft fabric. How can you bear to face Zayne, the king of steady focus and responsibility, like this? This is the man who graduated top of his class after skipping years of school, and became the youngest cardiac surgeon on top of it, plus all his awards and achievements! You couldn't even sit for two minutes to write one paragraph for work.

"Dear?"

His keys clink into the bowl by the door. His umbrella is set in the stand, coat hung up on a hanger, shoes exchanged for slippers. You listen to it all, counting down the steps it takes for him to cross over to your hiding place.

"My love, what's wrong?"

You peek out from the plush. Zayne's hair is lightly damp from the rain that got caught in the wind, sticking to his forehead. Little droplets gather on his glasses. His tie is skewed; soft slippers a heavy contrast to his work attire. He crouches down at the entrance, holding up the loose end of the blanket to peer in at you. His eyes flick over the plushies and pillows, but then they focus directly on you, your face, your body language, assessing the situation as best he can.

He waits so patiently. It only makes your admission harder, because you know you could do so much better. Work just as hard as he does, and come home with energy to spare.

"I didn't get any work done today..." you mutter, staring at the ground by his feet. It's easier than looking at his face. "Or anything that I needed to..."

He hums, thoughtful, neutral. He shifts in his spot. "What did you need to do today?"

You frown and hug the snowman tighter. "I needed to deposit a check at the bank and get stuff for dinner, and I needed to get gas; so we don't have anything to cook and I have to get gas tomorrow when it's going to be busy. And Nero needed my report on my last field mission, and Tara needed my help filing some stuff for her. But I didn't do any of it. I just stayed here all day, building this stupid fort..."

You drop the plush off to the side with a sigh. "I'll take it down."

He reaches out before you can. His hand wraps around your ankle, thumb stroking soothing shapes against your shin. "Leave it up. We can just stay in, blanket fort and all."

You finally look up at him, face contorted in a grimace. "But we don't have groceries," you rebut. "And if Tara finds out I didn't help her out because I was sitting in a blanket fort all day-"

"No one needs to know," he reassures with a soft chuckle. "I'll order some takeout and we can watch a movie. How does that sound?"

You stare at him. Take in the slight smile on his lips, and the gleam in his eyes behind his glasses. His skewed tie and slippers. His messy hair. Your partner, who just got home from working his ass off saving lives, giving you permission to rest. To stop beating yourself up.

Your eyes burn with unshed tears as you reach out to him. He responds without hesitation, crawling into the fort with you, crawling directly into your arms. He cradles the back of your head as you pull him close. Settles down on the blanket so he can wrap his arm around you in return. You can cry; you'll be safe in here, with him.

[blackbleedingrose]

Long Lost Morningstar - Part Three

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing(s): Charlie x reader (platonic), Vaggie x reader (platonic), Emily x reader (platonic), Sera x reader (platonic), Charlie x Vaggie

Genre: Fluff/Angst/Betrayal

Warning(s): Cursing, lies, betrayal

Notes: This is the third installment of LLM. This part will be shorter than part 2 and will finally go over the trial and (Y/N)'s reaction the extermination. I'm going to be honest, I'm dropping my other hazbin mini series. This is only until I can find the time and motivation to write it. I'm really busy with school and work, and lately my obsession with Hazbin has started to die down. I still love the series and fandom, but that's just something that happens to me from time to time when I watch a new series or get into a fandom. It comes and it goes, and I've been reading a lot of hazbin stuff but now it's starting to feel like an obligation I've set for myself and it makes reading less fun and more like a chore. I have no doubt my obsession will come back when the 2nd season comes out. This happens will all the fandoms I am apart of - like right now, I'm obsessing over Avatar the last airbender again after rewatching the series (not the live action). Don't worry, I'll continue this series as I don't want this to end up unfinished. I have the outline pretty much written, but it will take time to finish - so, please, bare with me.

Singing Colors: Adam, Lute, Charlie, Emily, Sera, (Y/N).

Words: 1631

"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".

As the time of the trial drew closer, there seemed to be a few hiccups on Heaven's side of things.

The angel who was supposed to be the trial's stenographer got a nasty cold and all the replacements had their own responsibilities to attend to. The only angel available just so happened to be (Y/N) herself.

When one of the court angels asked (Y/N) if she could do it, she didn't hesitate to accept.

Now she had the perfect excuse to watch Charlie's trial without having to sneak in!

Imagine Sera's surprise and horror when she saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk.

"(Y/n)? What are you doing here? Where's Angela?" Sera asked. She was a bit panicked, but did her best to hide it. (Y/N) smiled politely at the higher seraphim, clearly oblivious to Sera's rigid demeanor. "She got a pretty bad cold last minute and all of the other replacements were busy today; and since I was the only one who was available - here I am!".

Sera gave her an uneasy smile, "I see. Thank you for your help today, it's much appreciated". This was the last thing she wanted. The resemblance between (Y/N) and the Princess of Hell was very difficult to ignore and could raise questions if it wasn't for the stardust story Heaven fed everyone.

Sera had wanted to keep (Y/N) away from the trial in hopes of avoiding any contact between her and Charlie. She didn't want (Y/N) to accidently discover the truth about her lineage.

Sera loved (Y/N) like a daughter.

When (Y/N) was younger Michael would sometimes have Sera babysit while he attended to his more serious duties.

She practically helped raise her and she refused to let some misguided demon princess and her partner ruin that.

Unfortunately, the court needed a stenographer.

With no one else available, she was left with no other option.

Sera thanked (Y/N) for her hard work and for stepping in.

She gave the girl a gentle forehead kiss before leaving her to prepare for the trial.

It was only for today and once this pointless trial was over everything would go back to the way it was.

And (Y/N) would be none the wiser and away from that misguided influence.

However, things weren't as perfect as Sera had hoped for.

The moment Charlie and Vaggie entered the courtroom and saw (Y/N) sitting at the stenographer's desk, the two cousins eagerly waved at each other.

Sera's eyes widened in horror. No. This wasn't supposed to happen - it was the worse case scenario.

When did those two meet?!

She sighed in frustration already knowing that (Y/N) must have sought the girl out herself.

Dammit Emily.

(Y/N)'s curiosity was her biggest flaw and was going to end up getting her into serious trouble if not handled properly.

Sera quickly composed herself. No point in losing herself and catching any unnecessary attention.

She still had a trial to run and then she'll have a talk with (Y/N) later.

Now, (Y/N) was nice to just about everyone. She could get along with just about anyone she's ever met. But there was one person, or rather two, she just couldn't stand.

Adam and his little crony Lute.

These two irritated her to no ends with how high and mighty they acted. How either of them managed to stay in Heaven was beyond her.

Her father just told her to bare it, despite him also disliking the two of them - especially that narcissistic douchebag Adam.

(Y/N) did her best to hide her grimace whenever Adam spoke during the trial.

As the trial went on (Y/N) felt a little nervous when Charlie was shut down from making anymore definition references. She could see how nervous her poor cousin was getting.

When Charlie looked over at her, (Y/N) made sure to give her a small smile and mouthed, "You've got this".

This managed to help calm Charlie's nerves enough for her to regain her composure. Charlie got a little more confident when presenting Angel Dust, the hotel's first patron.

(Y/N) rolled her eyes when Adam spoke up again trying to discredit her cousin.

"Well if you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?".

Charlie's question stumped more than just Adam. (Y/N) had to take a moment to think - how does someone get into Heaven?

Being Heaven-born (Y/N)'s never had to be on the other end with humans who had to earn their place in paradise. And if someone as crude and vile as Adam can get into Heaven then what did it take for others, especially the damned who didn't deserve Hell - like children, for example.

Adam quickly wrote on a piece of paper before giving it to Vaggie to read aloud.

"'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man?' - are you fucking serious?".

"Uh, yeah. Sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?".

(Y/N) raised a brow. That's all it took to get someone into Heaven?

Charlie tried to argue Angel was doing all of those things, to which the court decided to observe Angel through the courtroom's orb. At first, things weren't looking good for Charlie when Angel gave into peer pressure.

(Y/N) bit her lip, silently hoping this would somehow take a turn for the better. She really wanted Charlie to show her hotel worked and for Adam to eat his words.

Luckily, things did start looking up when Angel took care of his friend, Nifty, and defended her from that awful moth demon.

"Then why isn't he here, huh?".

(Y/N) paused her typing - why isn't he here?

This started a whole argument at the unfairness of it all. How even those in Hell could be redeemed if only given the chance. (Y/N) and Emily saw the change in Angel and how he did everything on Adam's list.

"A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month".

. . . Wait what?

(Y/N) furrowed her brows in confusion. One month? What was he talking about?

"Gotta say I can't wait to-"

"Adam".

(Y/N) looked up at Sera, did she know what he was talking about? What the hell was going on?!

"Come down and exterminate you".

. . . WHAT?!

(Y/N) and Emily looked horrified at the shocking news.

"Wait!".

"Shit!".

(Y/N) and Emily fly over to Charlie, Vaggie, Adam, and Lute looking sadly at the orb showing the residents in Hell being mercilessly killed by the exorcists.

"What are you saying?"

"Let me get this straight".

"You go down there and kill those poor souls?".

"You didn't know?".

Charlie was shocked to hear that not all of Heaven knew about the exterminations. She was relieved to hear that her cousin didn't know and that she seemed to be against it.

"Whoops!".

"Guess the cat's outta the bag!".

"What's the big deal?".

(Y/N) and Emily turned and looked up at Sera.

"Sera tell us that you didn't know".

"I thought since I'm older, it's my load to shoulder".

"No".

"You have to listen, it was such a hard decision".

Sera flew down from her seat.

"I wanted to save you".

She took (Y/N) and Emily's hand in her own.

"The anguish it takes to, do what was required".

The hellfire reflecting in Sera's eyes unnerved (Y/N) and Emily - almost like she enjoyed the suffering and senseless murder of the sinners in Hell.

The two glared at Sera.

"To think that we admired you".

They tore their hands from hers and flew back away from her.

"Well, we don't need your condescension! We're not children to protect! Was talk of virtue just pretention? Were we too naive to expect you, to head the morals you're purveying?".

The two flew back down in front of the orb.

"That's what the fuck I've been saying!".

Charlie walked over to the two angel's grabbing their hands.

(Y/N), Charlie, and Emily moved up and stood on top of the orb showing the exorcists killing sinners.

"If Hell is forever, than Heaven must be a lie!".

"Emily! (Y/N)!".

"If angels can do whatever and remain in the sky!".

The three jumped down and stood before Sera.

"The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say! When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again!".

Things only continued getting worse with Charlie finding out Vaggie was an angel and an ex-exorcist, Sera's final ruling of no evidence of sinners being able to be redeemed, and Adam's threat of coming to their hotel first.

"Charlie, it will be okay! I'll find a way to help you - I promise!" (Y/N) called out before Charlie and Vaggie were forced to back to Hell.

After Sera had finished talking to Emily, she went after (Y/N) who had already left the courtroom.

"(Y/N)! Wait, please!" Sera begged grabbing (Y/N) by her wrist. "Please, let me explain!".

(Y/N) turned her head and glared at Sera with such intensity it sent shivers down the High Seraphim's spine. She's never seen (Y/N) look at her like that before.

It broke her heart to see the girl she's helped raise and thought of as a surrogate daughter look at her with such anger and disgust.

"Explain what, Sera?! That you've been here playing God and allowing the murder of sinners! They're already in Hell, what more could you possibly want?! They don't deserve this!" (Y/N) yanked her wrist from Sera's hold and flew away.

She couldn't believe this had been going on and she never even knew! Tears filled her eyes as she thought about her poor cousin. She knew needed to do something to help Charlie.

But first, she needed to see whether or not her father and the other archangels knew about this all along.

Taglist:

@soobryu @kyo-kyo1 @miyako-night20 @charliecharlie65 @unknow-sama @myluckymoon @lbcreations-blog @moonchaos18 @sirenetheblogger @jagharamira @el-hajj @azharyy @glowymxxn @itsmonicabc

[miryum]

"The Crime Scene"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Y/n stood by an apartment door that was blocked off by police tape, scrolling through her pictures. She and Jason had officially been dating for three weeks, and in her opinion, it was going great. Two nights ago they had another date which consisted of going to the State Fair. Y/n had insisted that they get the famous cookies (“They’re a staple of the fair, Jaybird! It wouldn’t be the State Fair without diabetes!”), ride the giant slide (“Darling, I’m an adult male with a full-time job. As much as I wanna make you happy, I’m not riding- oh my god, oh my god … Okay, can we go again?”), and go on the skyride. The day had ended with a camera roll full of Jason and Y/n pictures, Y/n’s favourite being Jason going through the children’s faux farm where kids had to collect small packages and do chores akin to farming. They followed a dirt path and collected plastic apples, packets of corn, and swaths of real sheep wool. At the end, they cashed it all in for an ice cream sandwich. Luckily, Y/n had been able to snag a picture of Jason in a tiny apron and holding a wicker basket. His mouth was downturned, but he waited patiently in line for his promised ice cream sandwich. 

“Hey. Sorry I'm late,” Cass said and Y/n looked up. “The coffee guy was…”

Y/n choked on her spit. “Assaulting your head?  What is going on up there?” She referenced Cass’ hairstyle. Instead of her loose pixie-cut, Cass’ hair was ironed straight in a tight bob.

“Is it bad?” Cass grimaced.

“Before I answer that question,” Y/n said, “do you currently have a knife on you?”

“Yes, several.” 

“Then I love it.” Y/n gave her a thumbs up. “It really... I mean, it’s hair. You look like Edna from The Incredibles. I'm sorry, don't stab me.” She shielded her face with her arms.

“My girlfriend, Harper, is going through beauty school. This week they’re doing hairstyles,” Cass explained. “She’s practising on me.”

“You’re still with Harper?!” Y/n giggled. “Geez, I love her! Uh, don’t take this the wrong way, but… is she passing?”

“Honestly, I don't know.”

“Well, let's get into this murder.” Y/n rubbed her hands together gleefully. “I'm hoping it's a dope one.” She flung open the door and ducked under the police tape. When she saw the apartment, she froze and her eyes widened in appreciation. “Mamma Mia. That's a bloody pizza pie.” She was referring to the scene before her, the floor smeared with blood in long lines, evidence markers covering every other metre, and the photographer was just finishing up. 

“Detectives,” a detective named Al Kelly greeted them. “The Roomba was running when we got here. It smeared blood across the entire apartment.”

Cass smirked and turned to Y/n. “Is this dope enough for you?”

“It's a bloody robot, Cain.” Y/n grinned. “It's clearly a good start, but it's gonna take more than that to be certified as totally dope. Who's the victim?”

“Name is Steven Carlyle,” Kelly said.

Y/n hummed and shook her head. “Kind of a boring name. Not super dope.”

“He was a psychologist,” Kelly continued. 

“Okay, a sharp turn away from dopeness, but who found the body?”

“His boss called the cops when he didn't show up to work, so he was found by Officer Fields.”

“Officer Fields?” Y/n whined. “You are seriously undoping this. Do you have anything else for me? Al?”

“The apartment was locked from the inside?” Kelly offered, wondering what Y/n wanted to hear. 

“Mysterious. Dope,” Y/n nodded along. 

“The alarm system was still armed.”

“Dope, dope, dope, dope. So hard to solve.” Y/n’s mouth dropped open appreciatively.

Cass asked, “any surveillance cameras?”

“Oh, yeah. Tons of them, but we checked them. No one was seen going in or out. Whoever did this was a ghost.” Al handed Cass a case file and she started flitting through it.

“Yes!” Y/n exclaimed. “A ghost! I officially declare this case ‘dope!’” She turned towards the apartment. “I love the first walkthrough of a crime scene. It's kind of like arriving at summer camp, except the lake is full of blood and your bunk mate is dead.” She paused before ambling through the room. “I think I may be bad at metaphors.”

Cass held up an interview transcript. “So after Carlyle comes home from work, the only person who even approaches his doorway is a delivery guy?”

“Yeah, but he never enters the apartment.”

Y/n gasped and pointed to an evidence marker. “Hey, Cass. Check it out. Triple digies!” The evidence marker displayed one-hundred and eighteen. “There's so much evidence, we hit triple digies!”

“Cool,” Cass commented.

“Very cool indeed,” Y/n agreed. “But you know what's not cool? Carlyle ordered his dinner from House of Lettuce. There's no way this guy knew he was gonna die! No one would want lettuce as their last meal. For example, my last meal... is gonna be any candy I get my hands on,” she shoved her hands in her pockets and extracted a pack of M&Ms.

“You just keep those in your pocket?” Cass pushed back a smile.

“We face death every day,” Y/n pointed out. “I gotta be prepared to go out on my own terms.”

“I can't even think about eating,” Cass gagged. “It smells like Tim’s armpits after he’s refused to go home for four days and is running on coffee.”

“When have you smelled Tim’s armpits…” Y/n trailed off.

A heavy set man with a thick moustache saddled up to them and said, “that's the heat wave. It speeds up the body decomp. I guess you could say this mystery is straight outta decomp......ton.”

“No.” Y/n rejected the attempted pun. “Who are you?”

“Angel Rojas. I'm running CSI and forensics.” The man took a sip of his coffee. 

“If the heat is causing the smell, why don't we just turn on the air conditioning?” Y/n asked.

Rojas shook his head immediately. “That kind of air flow is gonna kick up all kinds of dust particles. That AC stays off, which means the odour in here? Only gonna get worse.” He dug a small clip out of his pocket and shoved it on his nose. “Pro tip: plug your noses. Had this bad boy custom-made to fit these sweet nosters.”

“Are you trying to abbreviate ‘nostrils’?” Y/n stared at Rojas, completely bamboozled.

“In CSI, we don't try. We do, son.”

“Son? I mean, transgender people are great, but that’s not how I identify, thank you very much.” She shot Rojas a pair of finger guns before saying, “well, it's been sort of okay meeting you. We're gonna turn our backs and ignore you now.” She and Cass loyally turned their backs. 

“Hey, Y/n/n,” Cass smirked. “You know what it's time for?”

“I sure do! Y/n and Cass’ first impressions!”

Cass pointed to blood patterns on the wall. “Cast-off pattern on the far wall suggests upward knife slices. Y/n?”

Y/n knelt down next to Carlyle’s body. “Wounds on the vic's back means he didn't see the killer coming. Oof. Cass, my dearest?”

Cass shook her head and continued, “laptop, wallet, keys all in plain sight. No sign of forced entry. Doesn't connote a robbery. L/n?”

“But it does connote that our killer was waiting for Carlyle in the apartment.” She hesitated and asked, “did I just use the word ‘connote’ correctly?”

“You did.”

Y/n grinned. “Great. I’m just super smart. Please text Tim and tell him to suck it and that I am amazing and he should love me. Also, tell Jason that I’m the smarter one in the relationship and that even though he reads all the time, I am superior.”

“I’m not doing that.”

A voice frantically cried from the hallway, “I'm his mother! Let me in!”

Y/n grimaced and her jaw tensed. “Rock-paper-scissors for who has to talk to the vic's mom.”

“Deal.” The pair slammed their fists into their open palms and Y/n glared at Cass as the former held up paper and Cass showed two fingers to indicate scissors. 

“It's a game of chance. How the hell do you always win?” Y/n groaned loudly.

“You always pick paper,” Cass said.

“That is not true,” Y/n scoffed. “Here, go again.” Y/n flattened her palm as paper and Cass held up scissors. “One more time. Alright, one more time. One more time. One more time. One more time.” Y/n kept holding up paper and Cass easily beat her every time with scissors. “Alright, one more time. One more time. God, this reverse psychology is a bust!” Y/n sighed and stepped outside to the hallway. “Ma'am?” she found Carlyle’s mother and smiled softly. “I'm Detective L/n. This is Detective Cain. I'm so sorry for your loss.”

“Please tell me whatever you can. Nobody will tell me anything,” Carlyle’s mother, Amy, begged.

“I really wish that I could, but we're just starting our investigation,” Y/n explained. “Now, is there anyone you can think of that would want to hurt your son?”

“No! Everybody loved Stevie. I don't know why this happened! Please, you have to find who did this.”

“We're doing everything we can,” Y/n reassured her.

“Promise me,” Amy pleaded slowly, staring helplessly at Y/n, “you'll find who did this.”

Cass stepped in and frowned, “ma'am, we can't promise-”

“Promise me!” Amy placed a hand on Y/n’s forearm and tears started forming in her eyes. “Stevie was my whole world. I'm a single mom… or, was a single mom.” She sniffed and wiped at her eyes.

Y/n took a breath and nodded. “I promise you.”

Cass falsely grinned at Amy, who was thanking Y/n profusely, and shoved Y/n back into the rotting apartment. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you?”

“Um, exsqueeze me?” Y/n crossed her arms, offended.

“Did you really just full-on promise a victim's family member we would solve a crime? You broke the number one rule of dealing with a victim's family member. What were you thinking?”

Y/n shrugged and muttered, “I don't know. She reminded me of my mom, okay? A single mother crying in the hallway? Those are some of my frequent childhood memories.”

Cass sighed and rubbed her temples, speaking more softly, “dude, you never make a promise, because if we don't solve this, you've given her false hope, and that is way worse.”

“Normally, I would totally agree with you, but we're going to solve this case. We have so much evidence. We hit triple digies! We'll interview his friends, neighbours, and coworkers. Come on. We got this!”

“Alright, fine. But you have to deal with her if we can’t solve it.”

“Okay.”

“My goodness.” Y/n placed a hand over her heart and raised her brows in Cass’ direction. “Did Mother Gothel finally let you out of the tower?”

Cass’s hair had been lengthened significantly by hair extensions that fell down to her waist. “What?” Cass squinted at her.

“It was a Tangled burn,” Y/n explained. “Jason and I had a Disney marathon last weekend.”

“Cool, but no. Harper’s learning how to weave in hair extensions. Anyway, I talked to the neighbours. Our vic had a party three nights before the murder. I talked to everyone on the guest list. They all have alibis, so I got nothing. How did your interviews go?”

Y/n sucked in a harsh breath. “Not great. I talked to his coworkers, friends, and family. No one had a motive. Everyone loved him. The dumb jerk. RIP,” she added quickly, waving a hand around in a bad rendition of crossing herself.

“Did you promise any of them that you'd find the killer?” Cass asked, glaring at Y/n.

Y/n stared at Cass for a tense moment before admitting, “yes, his aunt. She also reminded me of my mom. Her name was Y/m/n!”

“Y/n!” Cass reprimanded. 

“Look, it's gonna be fine. This apartment is full of forensic evidence! There is no way that CSI hasn't found something. I have never been more confident in my entire-” she threw open the door and groaned as the smell immediately blasted her. “I can taste the smell. Ugh. You shouldn't be able to taste smells.”

“That's the heat cookin' the blood rot right out of the floorboards.” Rojas sauntered up to them. “Set scent to simmer. Serve over rice.”

Cass gazed uncomfortably at him before saying, “just so you know, Rojas, we're not responding positively to you as a person. Maybe just give us an update on the labs.”

“Copy that. The victim was stabbed 30 times. Coroner puts the time of death between six p.m. and seven-thirty p.m. Sunday night.”

“Okay, and how many DNA matches did you find?” Y/n asked.

“None.”

“What about hair?”

“None.”

“Fingerprints?”

“None,” Rojas repeated. “I have no matches of anything on any criminal databases whatsoever.”

Cass turned to Y/n. “Still feeling good about your promise, L/n?”

“Still feeling good about that haircut, Cousin It? I’m sorry, I’m a little frustrated right now but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you, Cass.” Y/n took a breath after her quick speech and said, “Rojas, how did you guys not find anything? You had fifteen people in here.”

“First of all, you sound so ignorant right now. I had fourteen guys here.” He scoffed. ”Like I'd ever get approval for fifteen guys. That's insane. Second of all, don't worry, we found something good. We tested the blood. This blood splatter belongs to the victim, this to a second individual, and that to a third.”

“Oh, hells, yes. We might have some perp blood in here. This is huge! Cass, we’re gonna solve this case!” She high-fived Cass and a couple mornings later, she stood outside the apartment, and greeted her friend, “ah, good morning, Prince Harry.” Cass’ hair was a brilliant, stark red.

“You seem particularly chipper this morning,” Cass remarked.

”Indeed I am,” Y/n agreed. “Because I finally tracked down the guy who delivered our vic his final meal and, in so doing, maybe saw the other two guys who bled all over this apartment.”

“We don't know there were three people in the apartment,” Cass reminded her friend.

“Delivery guy,” a cop introduced Y/n and Cass to a young, thin man dressed in a work uniform.

“Hello, sir,” Y/n smiled kindly and shook the delivery boy’s hand. ”We'd like to ask you a couple of questions.”

The delivery boy, who must’ve been no older than twenty-five, looked around at all the uniforms and equipment there. He nervously admitted, “okay, look, I ate a couple fries out of the bag, but everybody does that.”

Y/n shook her head, fingers tucked in belt loops. “That's not why you're here.”

“Oh, shit,” Max, the delivery boy, looked petrified. “Is this about weed?” he asked quietly, like it was a secret.

Y/n’s brows shot up and asked, “should it be?”

“No?”

“You delivered food to the guy in this apartment at six-forty p.m. on Sunday,” Cass cut in. “And within the hour, he was murdered.”

“What? How? That's horrible!” Max cried.

“Did you see anything suspicious?”

“No,” Max said. “But I didn't go inside. The guy came to the door. I just gave him the food.”

“And did you see or hear anyone else in the apartment?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“No, just that one guy. He ordered, uh, three beetroot zucchini wraps,” Max stuttered.

Y/n grimaced dramatically. “Three disgusting wraps. Three disgusting bloodstains. I knew it. There were three people in there.”

Cass stepped forward. “Would you be willing to go inside and let us know if anything looks different to you?”

“Yeah. Sure, that's fine. I don't care,” Max agreed as Y/n began to open the apartment door. Max stepped in and took one look around before screaming out, “why would you show this to me? Oh, I'm too high to see this.” He gagged and his eyes fell on the fishbowl which had bloodstains on the glass. “There's blood on the fish! On the fish!”

Y/n turned to Cass and said quietly, “I always forget how weirdly numb to horrific things we are. Do you think it affects the relationships we build with others?”

“Oh, for sure,” Cass agreed, nodding stoically as Max continued wailing.

“Oh.”

Cass placed a hand on Max’s back, who was currently bent over, retching up air. “You must have seen something. You delivered the food at six-forty, and sometime before seven-thirty, Carlyle was stabbed to death.”

“Stop saying ‘stabbed!’” Max pleaded. “What I saw here forever changed me. My heart is still pounding!”

“Wait. Carlyle was wearing a smartwatch, right?” Y/n asked, whirling around to the evidence marker that stood by Carlyle’s phone. “Those things track your heart rate. If we look at his phone, we can see the exact moment his heart stopped beating. Here we go.” She opened the phone. “Activities app. And... boom! His heart rate dropped to zero at exactly six-oh-three.”

Cass’ brows furrowed and she muttered, “the food wasn't even ordered until six-sixteen, which means…”

Both detectives exclaimed, “the killer ordered the food!”

Max, who was sitting in fetal position, yelled out, “oh, god. Did I talk to a murderer?!”

“Y/n,” Cass ignored Max. “This guy saw the perp. We have to get him in front of a sketch artist.”

“Oh, yeah. I'm feeling it now, Cass.” She bounced up on the balls of her feet. “At this time tomorrow, we're gonna know exactly what our killer looks like!”

“We have no idea what our killer looks like,” Cass said the following day, bags under eyes.

“Well, that's not totally true.” Y/n shuffled through sketch renderings. “We now know that the killer might look like Sebastian Stan, Winona Ryder, or Bilbo Baggins.”

“The delivery guy kept starting over. Apparently, he's always high.” She shook her head. “I'm sorry, man. Our big break turned into nothing.”

A voice sounded from the end of the hallway. “Detectives,” Captain Wayne strode up to them, cap under his arm.

“Ah! Captain,” Y/n plastered a grin on her face. “Did you come down here to take a look at the two best detectives you've ever worked with in action?”

“The two best detectives I've ever worked with are Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne said immediately.

“Oh.” Y/n nodded once and stared at Wayne. “You never mentioned them before.”

“They were excellent,” Wayne replied. “I'm here because Major Crimes wants the case. I was hoping to tell them you have some leads. I overheard you mention a Bill Bo-Baggins. Should we bring him in?”

Y/n stifled a chuckle. “Well, as much as I would love to meet him, he is not a suspect.”

“Okay, so who is?”

Y/n swallowed and said, “at this time? No one. But... we are currently investigating no leads.” She drew her lips in and waited for the disappointment.

“So you have nothing,” Wayne restated.

Cass glared at Y/n. “Not nothing. L/n made a new best friend. The vic's mom. She promised her she'd solve the case.”

Wayne pursed his lips. “That's a rookie mistake.”

Y/n held up her hands defensively. “Okay. Fine. Maybe I'm not Pierce and Pennyweather.”

“Prince and Pennyworth,” Wayne corrected. “And they would've remembered your name after one mention.”

“Because we're memorable, and they're not.” Y/n held up a hand to Cass for a high-five. “Turned it around.” Cass shook her head and Y/n dropped her hand, continuing, “alright, look, Captain. Cain and I are gonna solve this case. The answer is in this room.” She gestured around to the bloody apartment. “We just have to focus and let the room speak to us.” She shouted out to the open house, “isn't that right, room?”

“When you talk to the room,” Wayne deadpanned, “I lose even more confidence in you.”

“Why?” Y/n shrugged then turned to beg her Capitan, “can you please just buy us some more time? Sir, I feel like we've earned this.”

Wayne sighed heavily and conceded, “work fast.”

Y/n shot him a thumbs up and beamed. “Got it.” She turned back to the apartment and rubbed her hands together. She said to Cass, “okay. Let's look at the scene like we're seeing it for the first time with fresh eyes.” She jumped to the floor, next to where Carlyle’s body used to lay. “Vic was face down.”

Cass stood in the kitchen, analysing the blood on the wall. “Cast-off splatter suggests upward knife slices.”

“No signs of forced entry. Laptop, wallet, keys were all there,” Y/n said, staring at the desk where all the items lay.

“Doesn't connote a robbery,” Cass finished.

“Wait a minute. Have we said this already?” Y/n looked around. “Are we having the exact same conversation?”

“Yep.”

“Cool.” Y/n’s jaw twitched. “Moving on. Windows and doors locked from the inside. Nobody in or out.” She pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Think, think, think... oh!” She snapped her fingers and her head whipped upward to focus on the ceiling. “The upstairs neighbour and his best friend drilled through the ceiling, murdered Carlyle, bled all over the apartment, then climbed back up and sealed the hole behind them!”

Rojas spoke up from behind them. “Negative, we would have found construction debris and microscopic paint fibres. The only thing that needs patching... is that theory.”

Y/n waved him away. “Okay. New idea. We're gonna get inside the mind of the killer. We eat the veggie wraps!” She opened the days old food container and unwrapped the veggie wraps. A shiver ran up her spine as she took in the disgusting looking food. “Here we go,” she hesitantly took a bite of the wrap and immediately gagged. “Oh, this sick bastard,” she groaned. “Oh, man. This is one twisted motherfucker. Oh, the beets are raw. This guy is demented, Cass!” She harshly swallowed down the food before throwing away the rest of the veggie wrap, glaring at it. “How can someone stomach that…?”

A week later, Y/n stood in the middle of the room and held her arms out wide.“Okay. All we have to do is figure out what kind of person can walk by cameras without being seen. Someone camouflaged as a wall.” She glanced around, squinting at the walls, as if she could find the person.

“Unlikely,” Cass said.

“Harry Potter and his invisibility cloak,” Y/n said proudly.

Cass pointed out, “Not a real person.”

“Well, uh, how do you know, Cain? Have you searched all of Britain for a magical castle? I didn’t think so.”

A couple days later, Y/n sat on the kitchen counter, legs crossed and wearing a tank top and pyjama shorts. She suddenly gasped loudly and waved her hands around. “My god, Cain, come here. Look at the blood spatter. Do you see what I see?”

Cass walked over from the bedroom and wondered, “Uh, blood?”

“I think I just made a connection,” Y/n said. “The number three is everywhere. Three people. Three types of blood. And guess what the tax was on the veggie wraps? Three dollars and nineteen cents, but if you ignore the nineteen, then it's three!” she cried out.

Cass shook her head. “Okay. You've officially lost your mind.”

Y/n jumped off the counter and hissed, “what? Who told you that? Was it room?”

“No. It's the fact that you think the room has a voice and also you're working in your PJs!”

“To beat the heat, Cass!” Y/n shouted. “To beat the heat! If we can't turn on the AC, this isn’t crazy, it's just smart.”

Cass took a deep breath and said quietly, “Y/n, I gave the case to Major Crimes.”

“What?” Y/n’s lips parted in disbelief. “Cass, y-you can't do that. I promised Amy.”

“Yeah, and now you can't let it go,” Cass argued. She opened the apartment door and a group of men in uniforms and windbreakers entered. “The scene's yours, guys. I'm sorry, Y/n/n,” she said softly. “It's over.”

Y/n scoffed and marched out. “Okay, fine! I'll leave. Come on, room!” she called out to the apartment.

“You left your pants,” Cass said loudly.

“I don't care!” Y/n shouted back.

Cass slid into the briefing room, noticing Y/n who was crouched on the floor. “Hey, Y/n?”

Y/n popped up and gasped. “Ah! Hello, Cassandra, my coworker and dearest friend.”

Cass shoved her hands into her pockets. “Look, I know you're mad at me, but I only gave away that case to help you. You were acting like a lunatic.”

Y/n placed a bottle of ketchup on one of the tables. “Don't even worry about it. You were totally right. I was in too deep, and honestly, I feel so free not having to work that case anymore, so thank you.” She didn’t know what to do, so she gave Cass an awkward little bow.

Cass smiled, relieved. “Cool, you're welcome. Uh, what's up with all the ketchup?”

“It's, um… for my hot dog.” Y/n nodded slowly. She began to push Cass out of the room. “Anyways, this has been a great chat, but I better get back to my hot dog.”

Cass frowned and pushed past her and froze at the sight of Stephanie who was laying on the floor, covered in ketchup. “Oh, wow.” Cass said slowly, eyes wide.

“There's nothing crazy about this, sister,” Y/n said. “It's the crime scene!” She pointed to the differently arranged tables in the briefing room. “There’s the stove, the kitchen island, blood,” she splattered some more ketchup on a table. “And of course, the body,” she flourished towards Steph.

“Hi, Cass!” Steph waved at her friend. “I'm the body.”

“You gave away my case, but guess what?” She let out a ‘boo-yah’ and held up two fingers. “I spent two months in that apartment. I can recreate it in my sleep.”

“Have you slept?” Cass crossed her arms.

“No,” Y/n said.

Dick walked into the room and looked around, shocked at the mess. “What the hell is going on here?!”

“Y/n’s gone insane because she promised the victim's mom she'd solve her son's murder,” Cass explained.

Dick placed his hands on his hips, disappointed. “Seriously? You never promise a victim's relative anything.” He took a breath and commanded, “clean it up and get out. You've lost your mind,” he decided.

“That's not true!” Y/n retorted. “I'm solving this.”

“Hey, sweetheart?” Jason placed a comforting hand on Y/n’s back. He had gotten a concerning text from Cass that had persuaded Jason to stop by Y/n’s apartment during his lunch break. He had originally knocked on the door, but when she didn’t answer, he had used the key she gave him for emergencies. 

Y/n jumped at the contact and whirled around, eyes bloodshot and the bags under her eyes were darker than ever. “Jason? When did you get here?” Before her sat the blueprints of Carlyle’s apartment.

Jason’s eyes widened at her appearance before his expression softened sadly. “Oh, darling, how much sleep have you gotten?”

“Uh… when was Monday?”

“Four days ago,” Jason answered gently. “Come on,” he gently helped her out of her chair and led her to the bedroom. “Can we get some rest?” Y/n nodded reluctantly and allowed him to tuck her into bed. “I’m just gonna stay here to make sure you get sleep well,” Jason whispered. 

“Okay…” Y/n soon fell asleep, a small smile tugging on Jason’s lips. He returned to Y/n’s living room and sat down on the couch, turning the TV on, making sure the volume was low so as to not disturb her. 

However, an hour or so later, Jason heard some rustling from Y/n’s room. Worried, he crept to Y/n’s room and peered in. When he saw what his girlfriend was doing, he sighed heavily. “Y/n, my darling, please go to sleep.” 

Y/n was using the blueprints as a blanket, reading over them intently, eyes blurry and exhausted. “Never,” she muttered. Jason took the blueprints away from her before typing a text message on his phone.

That afternoon, Cass stopped by Y/n’s apartment. She was greeted by Jason who led her inside and motioned to the bathroom. Y/n was sitting in the tub, cuddled in a blanket, and muttering to herself. Cass sighed and knelt down next to the bathtub. “L/n,” she said. “So, I can see how much this case means to you. I was thinking that maybe I could help you solve it.”

Y/n glanced up and the blanket fell off her shoulders. Jason came up behind her and rewrapped the blanket around her. “Really?” she asked. “But I thought Major Crimes just labelled it a cold case.”

“They did,” Cass confirmed. “But clearly, you’re not gonna let it go. And hey, if they’re out of the way, then we can take all the credit ourselves.” She smirked loosely and Y/n beamed.

The detective leapt out of the bath and wrapped her arms around her friend. “Thank you, Cass!” 

The following afternoon, Y/n and Cass arrived at Carlyle’s apartment. “That's weird,” Cass hummed. “The police tape's already gone.”

“Oh, yeah, Major Crimes released the scene yesterday.” The pair walked into the apartment as Y/n said, “but I'm sure they haven't had time to clean up the evidence…” she trailed off, looking at the perfectly spotless rooms.

“Oh, shit, they emptied the place out.” Cass said. “Nothing left in here. I can't believe this is how it ends.”

“Yeah. Is it weird that I miss the smell?” Y/n’s lips turned up in a reminiscing smile. “Wait a minute, do you hear that?” Her head tilted to the side as she tried to figure out if the soft humming noise was coming from the apartment, or if she really was crazy and it was all in her head. “I've spent six hundred hours in this room, and I have never heard that sound.”

“It's because the air conditioning's never been turned on. It's coming from that vent,” Cass pointed to a large vent in the wall.

Y/n immediately took out a swiss army knife and unscrewed the bolts. She faithfully got down on her hands and knees and crawled into the huge vent. “I don't see anything,” she called back to Cass. “Wait, there's a bend. Oh, my god.” She came across a pack of plastic water bottles and some empty chip bags. “There's food and water in here!”

Half an hour later, Cass and Y/n stood in the precinct, Cass’ laptop propped open in front of them. Cass said, “we never saw the killer leave this apartment because he never left. But he couldn't have survived in there for months. That's insane.”

“He wasn't back there for months,” Y/n explained. “He just waited for the body to be discovered and then snuck out sometime after that.”

“But this place was crawling with cops.”

“Which is exactly what he wanted,” Y/n scratched at her nose. “He snuck out dressed like a cop.”

“Even if he had a uniform, somebody would've recognized him,” Cass said, thinking logically. In order for them to figure this case out, there couldn’t be any holes in the story.

“Not if his face was covered.”

“By a Hazmat suit!” Cass’ mouth fell open. “The CSI guys! Rojas said he had fourteen techs, but didn't you count fifteen?”

“I did count fifteen!” Y/n exclaimed loudly. “My maths was right! Suck it, Mrs. Wilson! She was my Algebra two teacher. She was actually very sweet. She believed in me.” Cass shot her a look and Y/n remembered, “oh. Yeah. Here's the security footage. Play the tape.” Cass pressed play and Y/n narrated along to the video, “okay, so there's us arriving. Alright…. Wait. Go back.” She pointed to the one guy on the screen. “Look at this guy. All the other techs are wearing their little booties, but he's not. Follow that guy.”

“Where's the footage from the grocery across the street?” Cass muttered to herself, pulling up the camera logs.

“We have that?” Y/n asked, astonished. “That is so crazy. We’re under surveillance at all times. I'm sure it's fine and it won't backfire and ruin society.” She shook her head, ridding herself of the thoughts. “Zoom in on his face. Hm… that man isn’t CSI. But he is about to say… CS-bye.” She grinned at her pun and announced, “okay, Cass. You know what it's time for!”

The friends high-fived each other and said, “Cass and Y/n’s final impressions!”

“The dude’s a hit man. He snuck into the apartment during the party several nights earlier, hid in the vent for three days, then emerged and murdered Carlyle. Y/n?”

Y/n took over and added, “he then spilled bags of blood that he stole from a blood bank all over the floor and turned on the victim's Roomba to make the crime scene as messy as possible. Cass?”

“The messy scene meant there'd be extra crime techs, allowing the perp to sneak out in a Hazmat suit, which records show he bought online. Two weeks before the crime was committed. My only question, who was behind all this?”

Two days later, a man by the name of Warren Lawford (“Really? That’s the most ironic name ever!”) sat in the interrogation room and said, “I was hired by a depressed grocer.”

“Wow.” Y/n muttered. “Dopeness taking a late hit here, but we still got you! See you at the sentencing, peace, and we're out!” She held up a peace sign before she and Cass swept out of the room, looking smug. 

Amy waited for them outside, face contorting into relief when Cass explained that Lawford was pleading guilty. “Oh, thank god. But why did he kill Stevie? Was he doing something bad?”

“Not at all,” Y/n reassured her. “Steve dropped one of his clients that was too emotionally attached to him and the client went kinda crazy and issued a hit on him.”

“Well, is anybody going after him?”

“If they're not, then I will. I promise you,” Y/n said softly.

Amy’s eyes filled with tears and she spread her arms open. “Come here,” she sniffed, wrapping Y/n in a big hug, electing a squeak from the detective.

“Why are you promising her?” Cass mouthed to Y/n from out of Amy’s line of sight.

“I can't help myself!” Y/n whispered harshly.

“Goodbye, detectives,” Amy grinned before exiting the precinct.

“Take care,” Y/n called after the woman. 

“I gotta say,” Cass huffed a chuckle. “We would not have solved that case if you hadn't gotten involved emotionally.”

“Think we'd be better cops if we did that all the time?” Y/n asked.

“Absolutely not, never again.”

“Yeah, it was a total nightmare.”

[fandomsfordays21]

My "Ink Sans" AU

So, I've had this idea for a while, but I'm sharing it now due to my mutuals @mrgrimreaper1 and @t3m1 encouraging me, and because they shared their own ocs. (Go check them out Sketch!Sans is pretty cool)

Basically, I was thinking a bit too hard about Ink's backstory, and I started feeling really bad about the others in his universe. This was especially true for his Papyrus, since he was the only other person in _____!tale that showed any form of emotions.

Then I got onto a train of thought about Ink's creator specifically. We know they dropped the idea of Ink's universe when drawing became a chore, leaving the sketches unfinished, but nothing else about them. I got to thinking, what if Ink's creator was to come back? What if they came back and finished I _____!tale after Ink was gone?

That brings us to Sketchtale, also known as the Completed Concept AU for those outside of the UTMV.

For the basics, Sketchtale is the universe that _____!tale was supposed to be, or at least a reworked version of it. The Creator, after a long while, rejoins the Undertale Fandom and decides to revisit their unfinished au from all that time ago. The name "Sketchtale" is meant to reference that it was left as a sketch for a long time.

Sketchtale is a universe based entirely off of art and multiple art forms, each area of the Underground being based off of certain mediums.

Ruins: Sculpture, carvings, engravings, mosaics.

Snowdin: Graphite and colored pencil, crayon, marker, charcoal.

Waterfall: Watercolors, paints of any variety, resin.

Hotland: Glassblowing, pottery, metalworking. (Art done with/using technology is also found here, but it's more common around the CORE and is not the main art medium.)

New Home/The castle: Knitting, sewing, crotchet, quilt and clothes making.

I'll make posts about individual characters later, but Monsters as a whole have some unique qualities that are important to know.

Monsters in Sketchtale have colored SOULs, with each monster having 1 or 2 unique colors. These colors are not Traits, like they are in Humans, and are instead types of Magic. Each color has specific abilities, with having more than one color being both rare and powerful. (Most bosses in the game have dual-colored SOULs.) A monster who has absorbed 7 Human SOULs gains a special, incredibly powerful SOUL type, called a Prism SOUL or God SOUL, that can use all colors at once.

A Monster's Magic will express its color(s) by binding to one or more specific utensils or mediums, which will be used in battle. (Imagine every Monster in Sketchtale as having their own Broomie, or having the specific paint magics.)

I'll have a separate post with diagrams and charts once I draw them, but I hope this post is clear enough to understand. This is just a very basic rundown of the AU, so if anyone has questions or wants specific details about Sketchtale, my askbox is open.

This is kind of a half-baked idea for now, so things are open to change and I will have to finish developing certain details and characters, but I'm willing to keep working if you guys like this idea. I have a lot of cool stuff planned for the Sans (Doodle) and Papyrus (Sketch) of this au and some angst ideas that I'm excited to share, so stay tuned!

[bettydice]

I have finished Veilguard. A bunch of thoughts under the cut!

The Companions: Loved all of them and all the banter and their interactions. I thought the companion quests were fantastic and there was a lot of content there and I enjoyed it all. Voice acting was fantastic and some line deliveries made me tear up. And while it was honestly nice to have everyone get along well and be respectful with each other, I did miss some... bite and conflict. Like you get all those delicious conversations with Solas and questioning of motives and I wanted more of that sort of thing. Also I'd die for Assan and Manfred. The Environments: This is definitely one of the strongest parts of the game for me. Everything is gorgeous and I loved just walking around, exploring. I thought they found a great balance of streamlined and exploration! Puzzles were at a difficulty that I can still enjoy (thus very simple, I'm sure other people are annoyed by that) and it made exploring satisfying and relaxing instead of a chore. And I loved seeing changes in the environments after certain events or NPCs moving into places that I'd cleared. I rarely fast travelled because I loved walking through the Crossroads so much.

Rook: Overall, I enjoyed Rook. I chose Erika Ishii's voice for my first playthrough and thought it was fantastic. Also loved every Mourn Watch dialogue option. However... Rook has a loooot of auto dialogue and the dialogue options feel quite limited, so I'm worried about replays and being able to make different Rooks actually feel different. Also hate to say this, but Rook could smile a little less in cutscenes... I also don't think you can play a Rook that antagonizes any companions or is just plain shit at conflict resolution.

Combat: Even though I never felt like I fully mastered it, I enjoyed it. And especially after recently replaying all the other games - the dragon fights were so much cooler (though as a mage, they were also 80% running around screaming). I didn't miss being able to control my companions, except for taking screenshots. Romance: I romanced Bellara and I love her, she is my beautiful wife. I do wish there'd been more romance specific content, especially because you get to see soo much of your companions getting together and being together and you're just there like... what about me? Spare romance banter for Rook pls? I didn't even get a romance specific greeting! Though ultimately, I'm really happy with the romance and the ending added some welcome drama, because Bellara was the one that got abducted by the blight/Elgarnan and yesss! The drama! The fade statues guilt trip! She's so smart and fierce when she returns! And the last scene was super sweet. <3

Story: Overall I'd say... Yay? Loved all the Lore drops and actual answers. Thought the side quests were well done and interesting. Another shout out to the companion quests! All in all, I'm satisfied with the ending, I think. HOWEVER! You can feel the Things We Didn't Import all over the game. There were so many moments where I was like, okay they COULD have mentioned xyz here easily, but no, they have to go out of their way to be vague or not let you talk to this character much. I don't need actual cameos (Isabela you deserve better) but there's so many missed opportunities for simple mentions or codex entries and it's such a shame. Because this IS the culmination of the story and why can't we see that reflected in little moments, so that we can truly feel the depth of the story once more? But I do love the Codex! There's so much good stuff in there! I might even go back and read all the Codex entries I haven't yet. Oh, why do we see no Elves working for Solas? Did he manage to get his entire spy network killed before the game? Classic Solas. Music: Soundtrack was fine, better than I expected tbh though a few scenes had some really awkward whimsical music that made me go ?????????? The Varric thing is dumb. The 'twist' only works because I guess nobody ever mentioned his death ever again. I hate sacrificing character development or People Behaving Normally for twists.

Why is the Inquisitor still wearing FUCKING PYJAMAS. Really wish there was an option to dye armour. The decision between Minrathous and Treviso is a cool concept and loved (though hated) seeing the fallout but what.... Rook and their two buddies are the only thing standing between a city and complete ruin???? I do not think so.

That's all for now.

[linopls]

Im new here so askingggg do u take female x Gn! Reader bc if so MILFRACHA 🧎🧎🧎🧎

milfracha is my bias and bias wrecker which maybe says something about me

but yes of course i do so here are some of my soft headcannons of how you started dating, lmk if you want hard ones hehe

MINORS DNI! warnings: cheating in hyune's

auntie lina - god the most beautiful woman you've ever seen - she loves to take care of you like any good mother would - always buys for you, offers to do household chores for you, LOVES TO COOK FOR YOU - after her divorce she'd confess her feelings for you with tears in her eyes - "just our friendship has made me feel more cared for than he did in our whole marriage, and because of that i'm 100% sure i'm in love with you" - she would always insist she paid for dates - the first time you bought her flowers, she cried - after a while of dating she would suggest going to cabin for a weekend getaway - you two would spend the whole weekend hiking, fishing, and cooking - on the last night, she would ask you to make a trip to the convivence store a couple miles away to grab wine as she cooked dinner - she would cook you your favorite meal and set the dining area to look like a resturaunt - after dinner she would lead you back to your shared room with a glass of wine in her hand - as she opened the door you saw the bed covered in rose petals and candles everywhere - she would kiss you slow and gentle, wanting to savor every moment of hopefully her last first time - would want you both to finish at the same time, looking deep and lovingly into each other's eyes - and would fall asleep holding hands and snuggled up close together

mama hyunjin - oh wow - she comes to you about troubles in her marriage, confides in you that she thinks her husband is having an affair - as the wonderful friend you are, you try to comfort her in anyway you can - you though the best way was to distract her - you'd invite her to try a pottery class or to painting with a twist, stuff you think she'd enjoy - as the weather got colder you would take her to a pumpkin patch or to a christmas tree farm - one day, when dropping her off as you normally do, you help her bring all her new christmas decorations in the house - as she's unlocking the door she says, "y/n, i love these little dates we go on all the time." - she giggles as your cheeks flush red - dropping the bags off on the counter, she asked you to stay awhile and have a glass of wine - "han's out of the house" she would purr, tracing the outline of your jaw - you kissed her with more passion than she's ever felt in her life - as you both finish at the same time, in her incoherent whines, she would confess that she loved you - afterwards, as you clean up in the bathroom, there's a small photo of her and her husband on their wedding day and you're surprisingly guilt-free

[peachy-panic]

Lonely

Hi everyone, I'm alive! Have some Torley Era Jaime content.

This kind goes along with a (much happier) future piece I'm hoping to finish writing and post soon, so stay tuned for some better vibes. For now:

WARNINGS: BBU/BBU-Adjacent, hunger, the sadness of stray cats (no animals were harmed in the making), brief suicidal ideations, gun mention, implied noncon

Restless. That is how Jaime thinks of the long weekdays in the Torley house, when the boys are at school and his Keeper is at work, and Jaime is left on his own until they return home to demand his attention. 

It is not that he is without work; Mr. Torley holds high expectations for his home, and Jaime strives to meet them all, even if it means double, triple, cleaning over a room he’s already scrubbed bare or taking all of the glassware out of the cabinets just to polish and arrange them again. But there are days when he finds himself with idle hands, in the time between completing his chores and his keeper’s return. That’s when anxiety creeps in. He knows it’s a conditioned thought, but it’s in him too deep to ignore. He can’t rest, can’t be useless, can’t be found being lazy when Mr. Torley comes home. 

It gets lonely, though, these pockets of restlessness. He is so fucking. lonely.

Sometimes he wishes that he had permission to go out on errands—collecting groceries, making returns, dropping off suits at the dry cleaner—just so that he can have a reason to talk to another person. He was trained to believe that many domestic contracts allow for that kind of thing, but Mr. Torley has made it clear that Jaime’s place is in the house. In the month that he has been here, he has never once been allowed to step foot outside, and he knows better than to ask. 

He is usually good at avoiding temptation, but on one Friday morning, Jaime is caught off guard.

He is cleaning the sliding glass doors at the back of the house when he catches a flash of movement in the corner of his eye. Jaime flinches, startled, but when he looks into the backyard, he finds that the source of the motion was a fluffy, white cat, now tucked halfway behind a thick tree root, peeking up at Jaime with obvious apprehension. Through the thick glass, he can make out a muffled meow.

It must be the same cat Kade saw last night. Jaime hadn’t seen it himself, but he overheard the argument between him and his father from the next room. 

“Dad, we should keep her!”

“It probably already has a home, Kade.”

“No it doesn’t,” he shot back. “Look, she doesn’t have a collar.”

Ubidden, Jaime’s hand rose to the metal band at his own throat. Funny, he thought, how a collar is the mark of a safe home to some. 

“That doesn’t mean it’s our responsibility.”

“Daddy,” Jaime recognized the edge of frustrated tears slipping into Kade’s voice. “What if she’s hungry?”

“She’s fine.”

“Can I give her some water at least?”

“Kadence.” Even from the next room, Jaime couldn’t help but flinch at the impatient tone in his Keeper’s voice. “You will not give this cat anything, do you understand me? You feed it once and it will keep coming back. That’s the last thing I need to deal with.”

“But Dad—”

“I said, do you understand me?”

“Yes.”

Without really thinking about it, Jaime stuffs the washrag into his back pocket and crouches down, putting himself closer to eye level. The cat perks his head up in response, fixing him with a steadier stare. 

“Hi,” Jaime mouths, lifting one hand to wiggle his fingers in a half-wave. The cat puts a hesitant paw forward, and Jaime smiles. “Hello, there.”

Another soft meow, and then it pulls its paw back. 

“Don’t go,” he whispers, struck by the sudden, urgent fear that it will dart away and leave him alone. All at once, it is Jaime’s greatest wish to keep this small animal in his sights, if only for a little while. If only to feel just a little less alone for a few minutes. It's desperate and sad, but it's true.

Jaime’s eyes flick up to the latch on the sliding door, just above his head. It would only be for a moment. Just a moment, just long enough to see if the cat will come closer. He won’t be breaking any rules—not really. 

When he looks back to the cat, he sees that it has moved several paces closer, and it’s all the push he needs. Slowly, Jaime reaches up and flips the lock open. The sound is enough to freeze the small animal in place, but it doesn’t retreat. Still, he slows his movements even further as he wraps his fingers around the handle and pulls it to the side. The burst of clean, fresh air on his face is the best thing he’s felt in months. 

The noise of the door startles the cat into motion again, but when Jaime stretches out his arm, his palm open, it bounds toward him instead of away. It slows its approach as it gets within a couple feet of him, stretching out its tiny, pink nose to sniff at his hand. 

“It’s okay,” he whispers, keeping himself still and steady. When the tip of its nose makes contact with Jaime’s finger, the cat only jumps back for half a second before it twists its neck, pushing its tiny head into Jaime’s outstretched palm. 

A sound bubbles out of Jaime’s mouth, and it takes longer than it should to recognize it as his own laugh. Carefully, desperate not to scare it off, he scratches between the small animal’s ears and elicits a soft, vibrating pur. 

“Hi,” he says again through another burst of delighted laughter. “Hi, sweet girl.”

He’s not sure if he’s right about that guess, but it feels better than referring to it like an object. He decides to trust Kade’s intuition on this one. She meows up at him, and he chooses to take that as approval enough.

“Are you lost?” Jaime asks, noticing without conscious thought that his voice has risen to a pitch he only ever uses for Kade’s bedtime stories. “Do you have a home around here?”

He knows the answer before he asks it, though. The edges of her white fur are caked with mud and grime, and he can feel her spine a little too prominently through her skin. 

Jaime remembers well what that kind of hunger feels like. A dangerous thought begins to take shape. 

He glances at the clock in the hallway. He still has a couple of hours before he expects Mr. Torley home. That should be plenty to sneak something out. Even if it’s just some water. Jaime can clean it up and put everything away before his Keeper comes home. He never needs to know. 

He flinches as the thought lands. These are the kinds of things he’s not supposed to think about anymore. 

But Mr. Torley does plenty he isn’t supposed to do, doesn’t he?

He hesitates, just for a moment, before he stands, knees cracking. 

“Will you stay here for a minute?” he asks, scratching under her neck when she raises her head. “If I go to get you something to eat?”

She scuttles back a few steps at the sudden movement but doesn’t run away. He will have to hope for the best. 

In the kitchen, he goes straight for the plastic bowl in the cabinet that is designated for Jaime at mealtimes. He used to think about the fork scratches in the bottom when he first arrived at the house, wondering how many boys before him had eaten from the same bowl. He would never use any of Mr. Torley’s good dishes, but this serves him perfectly well as he fills it halfway with water from the tap. 

Food is another matter. Jaime has never had a cat before, but he knows the basics. Normally, he would expect to find a can of tuna or two stashed away in the back of someone’s pantry, but Mr. Torley isn’t the pantry staple kind of person. He likes his food fresh and expensive and expertly prepared, and—

Salmon. In the refrigerator, there is a small strip of leftover salmon filet from two nights ago. Mr. Torley never eats leftovers, and the boys hardly touched their fish to begin with. Jaime might have allowed himself to it before he would be expected to throw it away, but this is a far better use. No one will notice it's gone. No one will miss it.

Before he can talk himself out of it, Jaime carries out the bowl of water and the strip of salmon on a paper towel, relieved to find the cat waiting for him in the same spot. 

“Here you go,” he says, setting the offering on the cold cement patio. Her hunger becomes more apparent as she dives headfirst for the small piece of fish, tearing away large bites at a time. Jaime feels a pang of guilt that he doesn’t have more to offer her. 

She purrs as she eats, poking her head up every few seconds to glance at Jaime—either to check that he is still there, or to make sure he’s not coming close enough to snatch away her food. He sinks into a crouch a couple feet away, happy to watch her filling her belly for the night. In the back of his mind, somewhere well into dangerous territory, he starts to think of ways he might be able to sneak her food in the future. Maybe, if he’s smart about it and he plans his meals right, he will be able to save back small portions of whatever meat they have for dinner. Even if Jaime needs to slim down his own portion, it’s not a big deal to save a little bit for her the next day. Maybe if he only keeps her fed during the daytime, Mr. Torley won’t ever see her when he’s home. 

He is pulled from his planning when the cat suddenly stops eating and goes rigid. There are still a few bites left on the napkin, but she has turned her attention toward the side gate, her little ears twitching at something unseen. 

It takes Jaime another second, and then he hears it, too: the low, almost silent electric hum of Mr. Torley’s car in the driveway. 

He’s home early. Hours early. 

Fear ices him over, but Jaime has no time to freeze. He has less than a minute before Mr. Torley will make his way around to the front door.

It breaks his heart to have to pull the last bits of salmon away before she can eat them, but he hurriedly bunches the napkin into a fist, trying to pick up the tiny shreds that have fallen on the patio with shaky fingers. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the cat, who has started meowing in objection. “I’m so sorry. You need to go now. You should go.”

He curses under his breath as he spills a bit of the water bowl, but that’s easily explainable enough, he supposes, if he’s asked about it, he just—

He has one foot through the patio doorway when the sound of the gate latch stops him cold. Mr. Torley never comes through the back gate. Why is he coming through the back gate?

“Stop,” Mr. Torley says simply, low and cold. Not a shout, but a single, flat syllable that raises the hair on the back of his neck. Jaime nearly drops the bowl of water with the lurch of dread that curls in his stomach. In his periphery, he sees a ball of white fur retreat across the yard and disappear. 

He knows that, no matter what happens now, the last thing he should do is keep his Keeper waiting, so Jaime pulls in a shuddering breath and turns to face him. 

“Put it down,” Mr. Torley says, “And come here.”

Of all the things he could have said, that unexpected directive inspires a spike of fear. Regardless, Jaime places the water bowl and the wadded napkin on the ground at his feet and makes his gallows march across the yard. 

He stops a couple of feet away, keeping his eyes trained on Mr. Torley’s expensive shoes. Helpless words race through his mind, scrambling to arrange themselves into a coherent explanation, an apology, anything that might soften the blow of his inevitable punishment. 

But his Keeper doesn’t ask for an explanation or an apology. He simply raises a hand to the gate latch—making Jaime flinch—and pulls it open once more. 

“Get in the car,” he says. 

Jaime’s eyes rise to meet his, confusion and alarm ringing through his skull. “Sir?”

Mr. Torley doesn’t move toward him, doesn’t raise his voice. He simply repeats, a beat slower this time, “Get. In. The car.”

On trembling, boneless legs, Jaime walks through the gate. He hasn’t been this far outside in nearly a month, but the terror and the strangeness of the moment takes away any joy he might have derived from the fresh air and sunlight. 

Mr. Torley’s car sits in the driveway, sleek black and still humming quietly. Jaime has never ridden inside, and he hesitates a moment before reaching for the back door handle. It’s locked, much like his throat when he tries to vocalize it. Instead, he stands silent and unwillingly disobedient with his fingers clutching the handle, waiting. Mr. Torley takes his time latching the gate and walking to the driver’s side. He gets in, closes the door, and fastens his seatbelt, all before Jaime hears the quiet click of his lock being undone. He scrambles into the backseat and barely closes the door behind him when the car lurches into motion. 

Jaime flattens himself against the leather seat back as they glide faster than what he’s sure is legal down the road. He doesn’t fasten his own seatbelt, too afraid in this heightened unknown to make a single move without explicit permission. His fists curl into the soft material of his pants, and he only realizes then that his feet are still bare. 

Where are they going? Where is he taking him? Why isn’t Mr. Torley saying anything? The quiet feels like a threat of its own, but Jaime doesn’t dare be the one to break it. Should he? Would an apology gain him any ground? What is expected of him here: his silence or his contrition?

The lump in his throat makes the decision for him, blocking any hope of words along with the ability to draw a full breath. 

That is, until, the car jets past a familiar sign on the highway, and cold acid releases into his bloodstream.

“Sir?” The words come out less than a whisper, and are met with more stony silence. Jaime grasps for another pull of oxygen and sits up further in his seat. “Mr. Torley?”

Nothing. 

Jaime’s heartbeat pounds in his fingertips, his temples, his throat, his chest. It could be a coincidence. Wherever they are heading could just be in the same direction. The sign doesn’t have to mean anything. 

And then they pass another sign, in bold, harsh, undeniable lettering: EXIT -  WRU PITTSBURG. The car glides smoothly onto the ramp, and the dam holding back Jaime’s panic bursts wide open. 

“Please,” Jaime whispers in horror as the first corner of the concrete hell comes into view. “Mr. Torley, please. Please.”

Nothing. 

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” Jaime babbles, tears blurring the massive wall of false windows that seems to stretch a mile long. He is suddenly struck by the irrational fear that Handler Smith can see him already, that he already knows Jaime is here, is being returned, is being surrendered for early termination. 

“Let me catch you back here early from a contract, even once,” Handler Smith had whispered to him a week before he was assigned. “Let me find out you’ve embarrassed me by forgetting your manners, and I promise you, you’ll wish you would have slit your wrists before ever showing up in my training room again.”

Wildly, he pictures the razor sitting out on Mr. Torley’s bathroom counter and thinks, He was right. I should have.

“Please don’t do this,” Jaime cries, tears falling openly now. In a desperate corner of his mind, he wonders if it will help. Jaime so rarely grants him the opportunity to see his tears, and he knows just how much he enjoys them. In any case, he can’t stop them now. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, please, I won’t do it again.”

The car slams to an abrupt stop, hard enough for Jaime to jerk forward, jamming his wrist as he catches himself from slamming his face into the seat in front of him. They are stopped short of the entry booth for incoming cars, veered to the side of the road. Mr. Torley spins around to face him, making Jaime shrink back. 

“What are you sorry for?” he asks, eyes hard and resolute.

“F-for—”

“For getting caught?”

Jaime presses his lips together to stop them from quivering. Mr. Torley reaches into his pocket—and Jaime has the wild, hysterical vision of him pulling out a gun and dumping his body on WRU grounds. But he only pulls out his phone, flipping the screen around to show Jaime a camera feed of the back door at the house. 

“I have an alert set,” Mr. Torley says, “To monitor all exits of the house. Imagine my surprise when I was on my way home for an early weekend, and received a notification of my backdoor opening, unauthorized.” 

“I wasn’t trying to get out,” Jaime rushes to assure him, shaking his head. “I wasn’t… I wasn’t going to run.”

“No?”

“No. I promise.”

“What, then?”

How much will his honesty buy him now? Is it worth anything when Mr. Torley has clearly already seen, already knows? It’s better, at least, than a lie, and it’s all he has at his disposal.

“The cat,” he whispers pathetically. “She seemed… hungry. I fed her the leftovers that would have been thrown out. I gave her water. I’m sorry.”

“And you did so thinking you wouldn’t be caught?”

The affirmation feels like slipping a noose over his head. “I’m sorry, sir.”

“I’ll have you say it.”

“Yes, sir. I did.”

“And you did so after hearing me explicitly forbid it to my own children?”

He swallows. “Yes, sir.”

Mr. Torley inclines his head toward the building ahead of them. “What do you think the people behind those doors would have to say about such abject deceit and disobedience from someone they sent out on a paid contract?”

Jaime pinches his eyes shut, shaking his head. 

“Answer me.”

“I…” Jaime begins, his voice pinching. “I would be disciplined.”

“What kind of discipline do you think this warrants?”

Behind his eyelids, he sees the lash of a thick leather cord, a shock clip locked to his throat, a tub of ice cold water. 

“I don’t know,” Jaime whispers. 

“You don’t know,” he echoes.

Jaime shakes his head, and he can feel Mr. Torley’s stare burning through him. 

Then, as abruptly as they had arrived, Mr. Torley faces forward in his seat and turns the gear shift. Jaime opens his eyes as the car rolls into motion once more, making a U-turn away from the facility. 

“Well,” Mr. Torley says once they’re back on the highway. “You’ve got thirty minutes to think of a better answer.”

Jaime spends the rest of the night, and the rest of the long weekend that follows, atoning.

On Monday morning, he sees the cat again. When she catches a glimpse of Jaime cleaning in the next room over, hunched on his hands and knees, she raises one tiny paw and scratches against the glass. He forces himself to look away. And when her hungry meows come muffled through the glass panel, he scrubs harder, bending his head closer to the floor so that the scritch scritch scritch of bristles on the hardwood almost manages to drown out the noise. 

After that, she gives up on coming back at all. 

***

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[doonarose]

Fuck me that was an emotionally destructive work week. But it's 3.30 on Friday and I have little to do this weekend beyond chores and napping, and I am almost, almost, almost there. I will definitely be having wine tonight. I might also get cheap chinese on the way home and be asleep by 8pm.

Student that hasn't spoken to me for six weeks did not pass her milestone meeting. Other academics seemed to genuinely feel bad as they voiced their concerns to me about her presentation and overall understanding which I appreciated but also... I really want to explain to them that that's not because I failed to give her this guidance, it's because she's refused to talk to me for six weeks. So that was fine. She was then grilled in the closed door meeting after withe other supervisor and chair and I was properly forceful with some 'I am right, what I say goes' stuff which I've never been before, but this is stuff we have been over again and again and again, for over a year, and when it's something like how to structure a thesis, my opinion (plus her co-supervisor's and panel chair's and any other decent academic she chooses to speak to) outweighs hers. I know what I'm fucking doing. She also got proper push back about not having enough guidance. There are so many things she's been asked to do which she could have tried in a couple of hours, with no risk beyond failure and she has just stubbornly refused to do a single one. This isn't an exaggeration, of the hundred experiments I've asked her to go and try, she has not tried one. So she's going to end up put at risk of flunking out, given a performance plan, and then we will see. All because she decided a bit of criticism made me cruel and scary and mean... I mean honestly, the stuff she told our department head earlier this week made her look like an absolute child. She doesn't like that there's so much track changes and comments on her writing. Department head asked if those changes and comments improved the writing? were written in such a way that she could learn from them? were written in a professional way that was not rude or personal? All of which led to the revelation: Oh, so you just don't like constructive criticism? ME NEITHER. But it is not a valid reason to stop talking to the person giving it.

So she needs to deal with a close-watched performance review, basically, but she also needs to get over herself, apologise, and start engaging with me again. If she cannot figure that out, she's going to be dropped from the program.

I have just spent so many weeks really thinking I was this massive asshole boss and I'm not.

But then... My right hand man who officially finished up last Friday dropped in today because I gave him an extra week with the work laptop while he moved to his new job and place. We are friends, we still get on, this played out as best it could. Great. My fucking fourth year student, who has been leaching off him for eight months, refuses to listen to my repeated instruction to stop asking this ex-postdoc for help. Don't message him, email him, call him, nothing. He is not being paid to help you and he should not feel obliged to help you out of the goodness of his heart. He's here because I did him a favor and we have known each other for over six years and have a personal relationship which means we can chat. This student walks into my office to tell me they stalked him as he was leaving, chased him down, because he has a file they need.

Okay... why didn't they get the file off him back when he still worked here? Like is it university work product because obviously he needs to leave all that here, or at least copies. Maybe it's not a file... maybe it's some code... maybe it's a macro.... unclear. But basically, he made a program work for her, she has no idea how he did it, and now she's changed the program and it's stopped working. Even if she had the file she has no idea what to do with it because she has not learned enough about the code to run it by herself. That's on her. has she worked with IT? Yes, she's spent weeks trying to get them to help but they say they can't. Okay, forward me those emails... oh they were just phone calls. Okay. Wait, there's two other computers it was working on, could she use one of those? Yes... but those aren't the computers she likes (care factor) and she'd have to....

Anyway. She's a little shit is my point. My department head phoned me and now it's 5.16pm and I'm still here so fuck that I'm going home to my wine.

[tekutiger]

Post 3 for the day about games 😅😇

First thing I'm going to say here is, if you consider getting this one, do NOT get it for the Switch. Get it for the PC. It is massively buggy on the Switch and there is so much drama regarding the bugs and fixes that it's kind of a mess. But it's genuinely a great game. I'm hoping they get all of that resolved but like all things- it's something that's going to require time.

This isn't the first game I've seen this with, and I'm positive it isn't going to be the last.

That being said...

😅

Only reason I haven't logged in yet today is because I've been writing blog posts all day and doing chores, lol.

My story with this game is a bit of a roller coaster. It might even deter some people and if it does that's fine. I'm going to be completely transparent here.

I attempted to play this at the beginning of last year, iirc? For around 9-ish hours and I found it so incredibly complicated with all of the craft stations that I just couldn't get into it. This is coming from someone who plays FFXIV on a near daily basis and has played other games like FFVII, Ragnarok Online (live and p-servers), Sims 4, WoW, DDLV, and like 20+ other small indie games I can't recall atm- not that those have insanely complicated crafting systems but they're not one-click craft systems either.

Simply put, I dropped it because I had other games that made more sense. But a friend of mine had this on their wishlist so I bought it for them this last Christmas and I noticed another friend of mine had also bought it. The friend I had bought it for was very enthusiastic about playing it so I was like "okay... I guess I should try re-learning it again!". I logged in... but all of my things had poofed- including my farm, lol 🫠 It was just an overgrown mess of trees, rocks, and weeds. I don't even know how that's possible. I went to reddit and I guess this happened to several people in some patch a while back in July (2024) or something and it was a freak-accident that should have never happened- just some dozen of players were affected by it. Go figure, lol.

👆🏻 This is basically what my "farm" looked like after I attempted to clean it up thinking "maybe if I clean the area it's supposed to be on, it'll come back"... yeah no. That didn't work LOL. (I was also an angel previous to this and tried to remake my chara to an elf and it just shoved me back on the same plot with the same items and pet so that was confusing)

I decided at that point I needed to remake my character again but this time delete my old character because it was taking from my old character data somehow? I had no clue what was happening here, being totally unfamiliar with this game...

The good news is- I got my NEW elf and my NEW farm up and running and everything is smooth now.

This game is really cute though, in that it has seasonal events, a main story plot (that I haven't completely finished yet), multiple towns, characters you can romance (and even date/marry), lots of decorations, many pets and mounts, toggle settings so you can choose your play style. If you want to be casual or don't want to worry about HP, you can enable invincible. If you don't want to deal with the seasonal crop nonsense like pests stealing your stuff or crops freezing in the winter- you can turn that off.

Second important point I'd like to make is that this game is a bit slow to start, or get going. But after you get the snowball rolling, it'll avalanche, so don't give up on it. And all those crafting stations- take time to scroll through them and learn what they have and do. Don't do what I did the first time and craft ALL of them ALL at once like a dummy and get overwhelmed with them, lol 🙃

Third, those seasonal bosses that come to wreak havoc on your farm; you have the option to ask for help from people in the town. It's in the dialogue box. I think I skipped this the first time, I know other people skip this too, and then get frustrated and stop playing because there's an elementari on your farm throwing out all these things you have to remove taking away time from all of your normal tasks. Don't put yourself through that if you don't want to and ask for help, lol. But if you want to, by all means 😅 (There's also a setting to turn the seasonal bosses off, but then you miss out on some items.)

I don't want to spoil major plot points of the game but I had to show off the cephalopods and the helpful watering ghostie. The other two shots I just like a lot 💖

Here's some of my decorating 😊 The art studio is for Jun, he loves his plants so I made it very plant-y 🪴🎨. The kitchen cafe is more for my character 🍵🌻. If you play and marry Jun, the sunflowers will make sense.

I have several other areas to decorate but 40 minutes being the maximum you can set days to be kind of makes that a bit difficult for me 🫠 (personal problems, lol, I'm a slow decorator)

I do kind of wish the game's wiki was updated. They stopped updating it at some point. And the Reddit mods are no longer active but people are currently trying to get new mods in. This game and its community is very much still active- it just needs some tlc.

[hummingbird-games]

Dev Diaries

April 4th, 2024

😃When did writing updates become such a chore to me??? I remember when I was excited to share what I was doing, grrrrrrrrrr...

Well. Here's what's happening in Gemini World:

The Knight Dance HOPEFULLY will go live this month because the team and I are entering it in the Amare Festival. I really want y'all to play this game but I also have been working on it for so long that I want to check it off my list lol.

Please check Ko-fi for free posts (and if I'm not posting enough HSD on Tumblr, which, I'M SO SORRY!!!) The most recent thing I threw in the queue was a certain student's I.D. card 👀 but I have plans to put everyone's on there!

HSD: JY #2 is getting its updated, non-snapshot demo this summer! Also, I'd like to clear up some confusion. As awesome as it would be, the full game is not coming out this year. The focus is to put out this last demo and then hunker down and finish writing. As of this post, I decided to write Ryan's full route from top to bottom. His common route content and Billie's are the only finished ones (and may or may not make an appearance in the upcoming demo. lol idk yet). However, Ryan's route has been crystalized in my mind for MONTHS so I figure we'll get my boy out the way so I can focus on the rest of the children 🥲Remember, Florence still doesn't have an outline and das not good....

One of the things I want to be better about with this sequel is embracing the spectrum that is asexuality and aromanticism. I did...something with the first game ☠️ but I feel like the rep could have been better in a lot of places (and I identify as ace, not aro, so I KNOW rep could have been better 🤧)

Having a friendship route was a solid decision, and even if most players didn't fool with it, a few let me know that they played HSD #1 for that feature. Which is cool because I'm tired of playing games that make ending up with a friend character a consolation. FRIENDSHIP IS NOT A CONSOLATION!!!

That said, there are STILL so many things that I won't be able touch on in HSD #2, but I don't claim to be the authority on any sexuality. The above screen is only seen in the friendship route and gives flavor dialogue that can help players define their MC. As someone who came into her asexuality waaaay past her HS and college days, I didn't have the representation to better explain and understand myself, so. Yup.

Alsoooo while we're going on about this sequel, no spoilers but even if you pick a romance route, you're not safe from friend angst 🤷🏽‍♀️Now, if your MC is directly affected or just a poor bystander...?👀🔍

And that's it! April is gonna be SO MUCH FUN because so many game updates are dropping

Our Wonderland finale *sob*

TCT DLC bonus stories

Date With Death DLC Kickstarter

chapter 7 release date announcement for College Craze

Breathless Winds release

And other stuff I probably forgot! So yeah. Heading to work now, but I hope all of y'all have a great day/night, and I'll see you in the next update! 💛

- Gemini

[hamstermastersamster]

So we finished Control. On the positive side, I will say - telekinesis and levitating is super fun, the destructible environments are technically impressive, and there were some really great ideas in here.

But I never warmed up to the narrative style, and found all the documents and videos and conversations explaining what was going on just . . . dry, utterly boring exposition. I also think Remedy sabotaged their own game by adding so many completely unnecessary looter-shooter random-drop mechanics, timed random quests interrupting the plot, endlessly respawning enemies, etc. . . .

Like the combat had moments of excitement where I glimpsed real innovation, particularly once you can just fly around throwing furniture at dudes, but the tough fights were basically frantic bullet hell and some enemies were reallyfucking annoying to kill. So I'm not even bothering to go and explore places I know I probably missed some stuff in the post-game, because my reward will be more random fights and some random shit mods and some boring documents maybe. Hard pass.

I mean, you couldn't even sort the mods in the menu by type so I could easily identify all the pointless duplicates for scrapping, Remedy? 9_9 REALLY? The fact that this is a chore I have to keep stopping and doing every half hour AT ALL is already a stupid game design decision that didn't need to be. Bigger inventory limits, automatically replacing mods with better versions when found, getting rid of the need to check for that 1% increase in effectiveness altogether - any of this would have been better.

And you punish players for dying so they can afford less stuff that might help them win the fight next time? And you can't let us reload right at a boss fight so we have to keep running around and doing shit again before another try?

Hghhhhhh. The tedium.

In my mind's eye I'm picturing a trimmer, finite version of this game with fixed upgrades along the plot route as meaningful rewards, and areas you can actually 100% clear so you feel like you're making progress instead of just fighting an endless army of enemies over and over.

I think that could have been real nice. I think I would have enjoyed that version of the game. It's a great example of an experience with a clearly defined start and end being better than infinitely replayable dullness.

Ultimately, as it is, I just didn't enjoy it enough to warrant playing the DLCs or being interested in the sequel, so I'm gonna park it there and say it's not for me I guess!

[stressedlawsecretary]

Today's Focus

My tshirt is not an endorsement of JKR. I got it in 2004 when the third movie dropped; it is 20 years old I simply do not throw things out.

05.29.24 - Made it to midweek! We've got sunshowers today (it's sunny and raining) and my sinuses are killing me. Thank god I don't have to commute on Wednesdays.

Work - I didn't leave stuff for myself, except for like an efile and retrieving a document. I'll only have to do what comes in by email but I think SJC is back so I might end up busy again.

I ended up on the phone for 20 min with one of JJM's defendants in her new case because he's very concerned about how to mark up the complaint I sent him (95 pages of handwriting because the plaintiff is a pro se I/I), and I had to re-do a mailing from October because the correctional facility didn't bother to send it back to us until like this month or something. Oh and I had to explain to an intermediary that, because they are not a party to the lawsuit in question, they cannot just sign documents on behalf of the plaintiff.

Background Noise - Well I'm home and the DVR is still p full despite me literally getting a whole 20 episodes of Jeopardy off last week so this week we're focused on all the episodes of The Steve Wilkos Show Dad has saved back for me. I do not watch the trashy cheater & DNA shit; I'm here for the true crime ones - molestation, sexual assault, theft, murder...shit like that.

Managed 15 videos off the various lists yesterday which is pretty good considering that at least an hr of my time was taken up by my computer updating and restarting.

Study - It is visual study day, so most of what I'm going to pick to watch on YT in my downtime will be something extra-informative. To that end, I've got a couple of biography/fact-type videos I want to watch: one on the lava lamp, and the second on the real-life case that inspired the exorcist. I have a couple of true crime and other fact-type lists I can watch as well if I somehow get the time.

I am actually quite pleased with what I managed to read yesterday: two of Van Gogh's letters, three articles on the UK's Post Office Horizon scandal, three 'good news' articles, and I finished the essay on International Monetary Reconstruction. I also got a little farther in a couple of other long essays I was reading.

Extras - Wednesday is back to doing chores so I have to clean out the catbox again and vacuum; I'm also going to do some extra laundry and cleaning up in Dad's room because he lost his glasses on his trip so I have to find his spare pair. At least it's takeout night though I have no clue what I might want to get. I'm planning on watching the first Kamen Rider Build movie tonight; I may or may not watch another episode to go with it. Depends, because I'm starting S3 of The Tick as well (have to save time for silly show!) Mini-essay is done & was easy because it was about good news; tomorrow's will be harder and god knows if I'll do anything else today.

[tatsuki-fujimotos-toe-beans]

Ok I just finished my 3rd run of bg3 and I think I'm done for a while atleast. I've been playing it like it's my full time job for like 2-3 weeks now forsaking all human contact pretty much and I think at this point I've squeezed as much content as I can be bothered for.

First run as what I'd say was normal for me, I played as a barbarian first and then swapped to wizard when I recruited karlach (which didnt happen until almost act 2 because I just kinda ignored wylls quest and honestly didnt realise I was missing a companion lol. Finished the game with my lesbian harem of karlach laezel and shadowheart

2nd run I went for a paladin build. This time I decided I was gonna be 100% good (as opposed to like 70% good) and so I took oath of the ancients. Managed to keep it for most of the run too but had to google some stuff and pay off the oathbreaker knight once. This time I also had laezel but I tried to include astarion more since people on tumblr keep frothing over him but he was still kinda meh for me until I looked up how to use rogues in combat. Unfortunately he still didn't like anything I did but atleast I found lockpicking a lot easier with his insane proficiencies.

3rd run I finally played durge and did the "resist" playthrough. This was def where my interest really started to fade because while durge adds a lot it's not like it's a whole new game or anything. The extra content was fun but a lot of times throughout this playthrough outside of the durge specific parts I felt like I was kinda doing chores. Like I'd sit down and be like ugh ok let's do this and this and this and I was kinda just numb to most of it. I think that helped in a way to make the more durge like decisions and being evil overall even tho I played a resist playthrough where I was basically as "good" as possible.

I have an idea for a 4th run where I go basically solo or with some hirelings ig and just go full dark urge. And ofc theres the companions stories themselves like playing as the characters. But I think I've kinda gotten so much out of this game that outside of the solo full durge run theres not gonna be a lot more content left. Main issue with replayability imo is the quality of life which makes the game absolutely miserable sometimes.

But yea now I'm hitting like the serious post game depression and I really want to find some other game to completely dedicate my life to but that's probably unhealthy lol

I think the best thing that came out of my bg3 experience was the complete lack of league of legends in the time I was playing it. Before bg3, even if I was playing other games I kinda came and went and played some league here and there in the middle of those games and in between games. This is honestly probably the longest I've ever gone without playing league since I started in 2018. And the thing that is stopping me from going back now is the fact that I had to get used to wasd controls for the camera in bg3 and I was absolutely dogshit at them and I still am now. But I tried playing an aram recently and tried to accidentally move my camera using wasd and kept automatically alt left clicking the bodies of the enemy champs as if they were gonna drop loot lmao. So yea I've lost a lot of my mechanics at league and honestly that's probably for the best for now.

Still kinda want an obsession to sink into but I'll resist the urge for now. I want to play titanfall 2 and armored core both so that's gonna be a bit of time. And uni stuff is probably gonna start soon and take up a bunch of my time so that's gonna be interesting for a bit. I'm somewhat trapped between doing the easy thing which is to become obsessed with something new and doing the hard thing which I want to do: aka live an normal and balanced life. Tough stuff.

[nikibogwater]

ADHD Survival player here. I would like to preface by saying that you have nothing to prove. Minecraft is the sort of game where it's easy feel like you're doing it "wrong" or "not good enough," especially if you're comparing yourself to others. But there is no wrong way to play. Anything that makes you happy is good enough. A dirt house is just as beautiful as an End Stone mansion if the person who built it is happy with it. Plenty of people play exclusively in Creative Mode. It's not a knock against their gaming skills, that's just where they have the most fun. That being said, if you really do enjoy Survival Mode, here's the stuff that helps me stick with it:

Building on a smaller scale. I can't stick with mega builds that take hundreds of hours to complete, and feeling disappointed in myself for not finishing a project makes the game a miserable experience. So instead I focus on making my small builds as pretty as possible. I get the feeling of accomplishment from completing a project without having to torture myself for it.

Plan all builds in Creative first. Experimenting with colors and shapes is a chore in Survival, and one that you can easily circumvent by testing your ideas in a Creative world first. Once I'm happy with a design, I take screenshots from multiple angles to use as blueprints, then hop into my Survival World and get to gathering/building.

Grinding for resources can be a pain, even when building at a smaller scale, so I have a playlist of upbeat music that I turn on whenever I need to mine a ton of stone or something.

Taking breaks. If I don't feel like working on a particular build, then I go exploring, or tend to my farms, or whatever else I feel like doing at the moment. You don't have to do everything in one fell swoop.

Organizing my crap. Behold my illustrious storage room:

I do not give myself an "overflow" or "to be sorted later" chest because I know if I gave myself that option, it'd be the same as having no organization whatsoever. The signs make unloading my items into their appropriate chests much quicker, and since I keep my builds small, I can keep my storage system compact and efficient. Setting it up isn't the most exciting activity, but it saves me SO much stress in the long-run.

Survival Mode necessitates a certain amount of practical function in certain builds. For example, when I build a house, I have to take into account things like lighting, fire hazard, blast resistance, and floorspace for Enchanting/Crafting setups. I can't just keep my cows in a pit in the ground, they need a cute little corral with a barn and decorative hay bales! Yes I am still butchering them for food and leather, but at least I'm doing it somewhere pretty. Finding that balance between form and function gives me a very specific feeling of satisfaction, and that's where most of my Survival Mode enjoyment comes from.

Treating my Survival worlds as escapist retreats from real life. When I boot up the game, I want to be dropped in an area that helps me relax, helps me feel safe, and distracts me from the monotony of routine with pretty colors and interesting environments. Sometimes I don't even build anything when I log in. I just sort of Exist in the space that I made for myself. And when I do build, it's always with the goal of creating something that I will enjoy coming back to at the end of a stressful day. I love a good adventure in the Deep Dark, or scouring the high seas for Sniffer Eggs, but the best part of any play session is arriving back home in my little corner of this infinitely generated world.

the inherent executive dysfunction of minecraft survival mode

(seriously if any adhd folk Can Function in survival and have tips. please let me know)